


Corporate Affairs

by hoppnhorn



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, basically hot rich gay dudes in suits, but not really?, kind of a Suits AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-02-22 03:12:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13158036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoppnhorn/pseuds/hoppnhorn
Summary: Steve Harrington is a billionaire. He sits atop a throne built on years of family money and corporate greed and helivesfor it. Billy Hargrove is the top attorney from the best firm in New York, known for his ruthless tactics and wicked intelligence. Steve only hires the best. Billy never disappoints.





	1. Steve

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless smutty suit porn [eventually]. I'm not sorry.

There was something sick about the pleasure coursing through him. Sitting at a wide, glass table, Steve knew he shouldn’t be nearly tenting his Brioni trousers over something as dull as a liability lawsuit. There was nothing erotic about it. It was hours of legal hemming and hawing until one side yields to the financial strain of endless motion after motion.

His company could go for years.

His lawyer could go for hours.

Watching Billy Hargrove shoot a feral grin across the conference table, Steve felt a shiver run down his spine. He wanted to dismiss the whole room just to see how many hours he could occupy with his corporate attorney. He was lethal in the courtroom and Steve was dying to know how cutthroat he’d be in the bedroom.

He’d probably have Steve begging for mercy in a matter of minutes, the animal.

“You’re not listening.” Hargrove chuckled cruelly. “Your client doesn’t have a leg to stand on with this heap of garbage.” He flung a manila folder onto the table and it slid, papers slipping loose.

The opposing attorney, some humanitarian from a firm somewhere on the hip and trendy side of town, fidgeted with his notepad on the table. Steve watched the man swallow.

He was scared of his hellhound lawyer. He loved it.

“Mr. Byers.” Steve stood from the table, buttoning his jacket to conceal the slight tightness in his groin. His suit was fitted perfectly, but gave him no wiggle room in terms of arousal. He was, after all, working with quite a bit down there. “I think we’ve wasted enough time for the day. Come back when you have something worthy of the $1500 I’m losing every hour I have to sit at this table.”

He didn’t wait for Hargrove or Byers to stand and reply, but simply walked through the door that separated his conference room from his office. His assistant, a curly-haired genius and one of his favorite people, appeared moments later.

“How’d it go?”

“It’s all bullshit.” Steve groaned, sitting in his chair. “But that’s why we have lawyers.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“A scotch would be great.”

The guy gave a soft laugh and opened the fridge below the bar on the far side of the room.

“Water it is.”

A plastic bottle of spring water flew threw the air and Steve caught it easily.

“You’re mothering me again.”

“That’s my job.” His assistant grinned, revealing perfect, white teeth. He was a trim and well-dressed man, his assistant. But under his pristine exterior, Steve could still see the broke college kid he’d met years ago. The kid he’d pulled out of a cubical and moved up to the thirty-eighth floor. “Did you want anything else?”

“No. Thanks, Dustin. I just need a minute.” He cracked the lid off the bottle and took a long pull, watching as the guy ducked from the room with a nod.

He didn’t like how close to full-blown aroused he still was under his desk. Looking down his long torso, Steve thought about how long it’d been since he’d fucked one of the several women in his rolodex. Maybe, he thought, it was time he gave one of them a call.

“Knock knock.”

Steve’s head whipped up as Hargrove strolled into his office, ironically _not_ knocking as he pushed through the door from the conference room.

“Well?” Steve asked, taking another swig of his water to combat the sudden dryness of his mouth.

Billy Hargrove stood in front of his desk, legs wide and hands clasped in front of his waist. It was a sight Steve allowed himself to drink in slowly, like the cold water flowing down his throat.

The grey suit on Hargrove’s body shouted money while the body beneath whispered sin. He was built, pushing the boundaries on the shoulders and biceps of his jacket until Steve found himself making note that the guy needed a better tailor. Or maybe he just needed to take off the damn jacket.

Hargrove wore his hair neat, trimmed short on the sides but long along the top, his blond hair curling ever so slightly at his forehead. He had a clean, stylish goatee that looked almost black in the right light, which had Steve wondering if maybe the guy colored it. The best part of his lawyer’s appearance, however, was his eyes. Sharp like steel and blue as the ocean.

“That was fun.” Hargrove grinned mischievously. “I like taking the do-gooders down a notch or two, flex what the gods of Harvard gave me.”

Steve nearly purred.

“It was certainly fun to watch.” He teased, watching carefully for Hargrove’s reaction. The smile on his lips slid wider.

“That why you cut it short?”

Steve arched an eyebrow.

“You can play with the hippies on your own time, Hargrove. I pay good money for you.”

Hargrove took a step closer to Steve’s desk, tilting his head down so his eyes positively glowed.

“You have me for an hour.” He glanced down at his watch and ran his tongue over his front teeth. Steve clutched his water a little harder until the plastic crunched. “I’ve still got twenty minutes.”

Steve’s cock throbbed in his slacks while his mind was all too eager to provide detailed ideas of what he wanted to do with Billy Hargrove for twenty minutes. Hargrove stared, composed and so very tempting at the edge of Steve’s desk.

“Enjoy the free time.” Steve said softly. “Consider it a thank you from Harrington Enterprises for a job well done.” He sat forward in his chair, ignoring the painful tightness of his crotch. “Maybe you can catch Byers in the elevator.”

Hargrove smirked and shook his head.

“Nah.” His eyes flared when he looked up again. “Not my type.”

Steve’s throat worked as he fought for the same confident composure radiating from Hargrove. His pulse betrayed him and he felt a flood of desire pool at his hips. He was going to leave a stain in his pants if he didn’t control himself soon.

“Well. I’m sure you’ll find something to do.” He finally replied.

The glint in Hargrove’s eye made Steve’s insides twist with want. But he simply held out a hand.

“I’ll go then.” He offered, hand hovering over Steve’s desk. As he went to shake it, Hargrove took a step back. Steve closed his open palm, alarmed at how quickly his heart was racing. Hargrove grinned wider. “Mr. Harrington.”

His hand stayed out, expectant and out of reach.

Steve took a deep breath, straightened his jacket, and stood.

“Mr. Hargrove.” He took the outstretched hand and grasped it firmly, gaze locked on his lawyer’s face. Hargrove shamelessly bit his bottom lip and Steve hid a shudder. He was erect and on display, no doubt leaving nothing to imagination against his fitted slacks. But he didn’t feel embarrassment as Hargrove dropped his hand and stepped away from his desk. In fact, he felt an unexpected flush of pride when he spotted the complexion of Hargrove’s neck turn blotchy, reddening before his eyes.

“Give me a call if you need anything.” Hargrove offered, his tone professional despite the heat in his eyes.

“Always do.” Steve replied, coyly fastening the button on his jacket to hide what he was sure was a growing wet spot.

What he needed was a cold shower and a long night with one of the tramps in his phone. What he didn’t need was to fuck the best corporate attorney in New York and get himself slapped with a lawsuit. Or worse.

As soon as Hargrove left, Steve collapsed in his chair with a groan, palming the _very_ painful length of his cock and eyeing his private bathroom. He pressed a finger to the intercom on his desk phone.

“Dustin.”

_“Yes sir.”_

“Cancel my afternoon. And I need a fresh suit. This one is too tight around my shoulders.”

_“Of course. Any preference?”_

“Grey.” Steve said thoughtfully, remembering the way Hargrove’s shoulders looked in his charcoal Tom Ford. “I want grey.”

_“Yes sir.”_


	2. Billy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wanted Steve Harrington. More than a win. More than a new car or a bigger penthouse. And Billy Hargrove gets what he wants.

He’s not sure when he’d decided he was attracted to Steve Harrington, but as Billy Hargrove returned to his office his body ached from the lack of release still coiled deep inside him. He wanted Steve Harrington. More than a win. More than a new car or a bigger penthouse.

And Billy Hargrove gets what he wants.

“You’re back early.”

His assistant fixed him with an arched brow as he strut past her desk. She was a fiery thing who treated him like a brother instead of her boss. He loved her for it.

“That’s just how good I am, Max.” He purred, putting on his best playful smirk. Max didn’t bat an eyelash.

“Bragging about being quick isn’t exactly your style.”

He tripped slightly as he stepped through his office door.

“Cute.” Billy growled over his shoulder.

“I know I am.” She gracefully slid in after him, red hair cascading down her back. She was a tough as nails and yet moved like a dancer in six-inch heels and a stunning power suit. His partner in crime sat in front of his desk, crossing her legs in a chair. “The Harrington thing handled?” She asked, eyes tracking him as he circled his desk and sat in his chair.

Handled. He hadn’t handled anything except himself in the men’s bathroom of the lobby of Harrington Plaza. He wasn’t proud of the whole minute it took for him to come, biting back the serious moans that threatened to spill from him. It’d barely taken the edge off. Not when he still had the neon image of Steve Harrington, hard and thick down one pant leg as he stood behind his desk. It’d taken all of his self-control to keep from climbing over the furniture to drop to his knees and swallow every inch of that cock down his throat. He’d practically drooled when Harrington had unabashedly displayed himself like that.

“Hello?” Max snapped her fingers and Billy blinked, tenting his fingers in front of his mouth.

“They don’t have a case. It was just a bunch of hearsay and bullshit.”

“Then why couldn’t they have sent Mike or Lucas?” She asked, crossing her arms with a curious frown. His junior associates were sharp, talented lawyers with bright futures. But, as Billy often reminded Max, they weren’t him.

“Harrington pays for _me_ to show up, Maxine. His father was my first client. I can’t pass Harrington Enterprises off to Mike and Lucas.”

“Don’t Maxine me, _William_.” She replied with a smirk, pointing a short, black fingernail at his face. “I’m just thinking about the—“

“The Robertson sale, I know.” He muttered, rubbing his face with both hands. “Did you get those documents from Kennedy Raff and Chase?”

Max nodded.

“Scanned and in your inbox.” Billy gave her a tired smile. An hour ago he’d felt alive with energy, ripping apart Jonathan Byers with the twitch of his pinky finger while Steve Harrington beamed at him like a man in heat.

When he’d first started working with the heir to the Harrington fortune, he’d thought Steve only admired him. There were a lot of men who admired his skills as a lawyer. He was the best for a reason. He was smart and ruthless without wearing his emotions on his sleeve. He’d been called the devil and he didn’t mind.

The devil got shit done.

But then he’d continued to notice Harrington staring. Billy had seen the way the guy wasn’t always looking at his face either. That morning, he’d spotted the subtle bulge in Harrington’s slacks and how it had gotten bigger as he’d torn into Byers. The CEO of Harrington Enterprises and billionaire playboy Steve Harrington had gotten hard over him simply doing his job.

Billy was alarmed to realize he fucking loved it.

“You look like you need an espresso.” Max said softly, her face easing into a playful smile. “In your busy mug?”

He let out a breathy laugh and ran a hand through his hair. Max sprang from her seat and strut to the far side of his office, opening a cabinet and pulling out a small, white mug. A mug she’d bought him years ago that said “I’m Busy” in messy script. Billy hated the damn thing.

“No. Put that away.”

“You need something a little stronger?” She teased, dangling the mug from one finger. “Little whiskey?”

“Don’t tempt me.” He scoffed.

“I think you underestimate how long we’re going to be here today.” Max replied. “There’s a lot to read.”

“That’s why I have two juniors to do the grunt work for me.” He purred. Max slumped her shoulders.

“You’re going to dump the files on them?”

“I’m going to read them.” He corrected. “They are going to memorize them.”

Max nodded but failed to hide the worried crease between her eyes. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Lucas Sinclair had taken an interest in his assistant. It also hadn’t escaped his notice that Max had started wearing perfume and a little red lipstick now and then.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be home in time for dinner.” Billy murmured, amused when Max’s cheeks turned a little pink.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Max’s phone rang at her desk and Billy grinned as she rolled her eyes. As she walked away, he gave her a small wave and she gave him a finger.

“You’re fired.” He grunted as she plucked the phone from the cradle.

“Hargrove Adams, this is Mr. Hargrove’s office.”

Billy smirked. He’d never get tired of hearing his name in the letterhead. He’d come from nothing to become one of the biggest names in New York. He clawed and fought his way through law school, three internships, and six firms to climb to his perch atop the ladder.

“He’s free Friday.” Billy snapped to attention as Max clicked at her computer, leaning over to frown at the screen. “At eleven? D'onofrio’s?

Billy leaned back into his seat. D'onofrio’s meant big money. And good Italian food.

”I’ll let him know. Thank you.”

“ _Maxine_.” He called. “I’m in meetings all day Friday but you just booked me for lunch with…?”

“Harrington Enterprises.” She said, sauntering into the room.

Billy’s stomach dropped into his shoes and Max leaned against his desk. “Mr. Harrington wants to discuss something his team put on his desk this afternoon.”

Billy couldn’t help but recall Steve Harrington’s desk and the many things he’d imagined doing on it. The thing was the size of a twin bed. It wasn’t a reach.

“Should I have booked Mike or Lucas?” Max asked cautiously and Billy snapped back to attention.

“No. No, that’s fine.” He murmured. “He’s bringing staff?”

“They booked D'onofrio’s. That sounds like a one on one meeting to me.”

Billy hummed and played with his keyboard, pretending to type in his password when really all he could focus on was the pulse under his skin.

“You sure you don’t want me to send one of the guys?”

“Yes.”


	3. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d gone on three dates. Three dates that had left him sweaty, satiated and physically exhausted. It’d helped clear his head. And he knew exactly what he needed to do at D'onofrio’s. He needed to fire Billy Hargrove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much love to my girl [@moderateslytherin](http://moderateslytherin.tumblr.com) aka [FuckingShitBalls](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FuckingShitBalls/profile) for listening to my crazy, cleaning-induced ranting and giving me lots of great feedback while I struggled through this chapter.  
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

He’d gone on three dates. Three dates that had left him sweaty, satiated and physically exhausted. It’d helped clear his head. And he knew exactly what he needed to do at D'onofrio’s.

He needed to fire Billy Hargrove.

When he pulled up to the restaurant Friday afternoon, Steve felt like a child in the backseat of the town car, looking out the window at the glitzy building exterior. He didn’t want to get out of the seat, let alone go inside and do what he needed to do. What he had to do to keep himself, and his company, safe. He’d contemplated sending one of his VP’s or maybe even a few of them, but he didn’t want to lose the relationship with Hargrove Adams so he’d decided against it.

This meeting was going to be hard enough to navigate; he didn’t need to worry about the message being muddied by some idiot misunderstanding his intention.

He needed a new lawyer from the firm. Anyone else. Because he’d unabashedly revealed an inappropriate and unprofessional interest in Hargrove and he wanted to do it again. He’d thought about that damn morning every day since, replaying each word that had been uttered between them. If he wasn’t so used to being forward, he might have been embarrassed in hindsight. Instead, he was afraid. Afraid at how easily he’d been willing to put his reputation on the line for a pretty face.

_A gorgeous face._

He really needed to put as much distance between them as possible.

The host took him to the table he’d reserved and Steve grew increasingly more tense the further he walked into the restaurant. There were so many eyes on him, some widening with surprise and others narrowing with curiosity. He hadn’t been to D'onofrio’s in a while and the last time had been with Maria Moreno, the one of many women that had put his name in tabloid headlines. Steve tried to remember the splash title that had punctuated that relationship. _Billion Dollar Breakup_ or maybe it had been _The Breakup of Billions_. Steve remembered thinking that the various headlines had sounded like failed business mergers and not the end of a romantic relationship that had been the focal point of his early twenties. He’d wanted to marry Maria once. As he walked through the restaurant, he remembered how he’d requested a ring be put into a very expensive glass of champagne. In hindsight, he realized what a mistake that had been. Steve’s eyes settled on the same booth he’d reserved all those years ago.

He didn’t feel a thing.

Marrying Maria would have made his father happy. Marrying Maria would have solved a lot of so called “problems” with Steve’s social life. It would have buried old photos of him doing lines off a bar and licking a stripper’s stomach beneath images of a sparkling white bride and a perfectly manicured wedding. His youthful indiscretions would be forgiven and his professional image would have improved overnight.

Instead, he’d called off the engagement three months before the wedding and dove headfirst into Harrington Enterprises. He’d nearly suffocated underneath the hounding of the press and his father’s rage, but his stubbornness won out. The sliver of the company under his care flourished and his name slowly fizzled out of the papers. When his dad handed over the CEO position, Steve knew he’d earned it. And he planned on maintaining his new, sterling reputation as a bloodthirsty businessman.

He dated several women. He kept them all happy. He kept it casual. They came when called and they left when asked. It was easy. It was perfect.

It wasn’t nearly enough.

Steve sat at his table and folded the cloth napkin in his lap twice, creasing the lines in it until the tips of his fingers rang from the texture of the fabric. He thought about the many things his father had taught him about meetings where bad news was the only news. He remembered the tips and tricks well enough but the coolness of the delivery eluded him. His heart was wildly beating in his chest and his suit felt too tight on his body.

He should have gone for a run or something. He was wound tighter than a spring.

“Mr. Harrington.”

Billy Hargrove appeared from behind him, somehow catching him off guard from his vantage point of the front of the restaurant. He leapt a little as he looked up from his seat, mouth slightly agape in surprise.

“Hargrove.” He stood quickly and took the hand that was offered. Hargrove’s palm was warm and firm around his, all business but friendly. Then it was gone. Rehearsed. Professional. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Of course.” His lawyer took a seat on the opposite side of the booth, sliding a leather briefcase in beside him. “You call, I come.”

Steve’s stomach tightened. Hargrove’s air was open and easy but each word weighed heavy with meaning.

“I didn’t see you come in.” He prodded, taking a sip of the water in his glass. It was crisp and cold and didn’t do anything to assuage the heat growing under his collar.

“Mmmm, I know the chef.” Hargrove nodded. “I got here early to catch up.”

“You know Antony DiBartolo?” Steve couldn’t help but sound impressed. He’d only met the chef once and that had only been after dropping nearly ten grand on a dinner for two. Hargrove took a small drink of water and grinned.

“I know everybody.” He said coyly. The heat under Steve’s collar grew under the pressure of Hargrove’s piercing blue eyes.

“Then I bet you could have gotten us a better table.” Steve joked with a smirk. Hargrove’s eyebrows rose and he grinned.

“If this were a date, I could have gotten us the chef’s table at a dozen places.”

Steve clutched the napkin on his thigh and feigned a casual laugh.

“Oh yeah?”

Hargrove watched him like a predator from the across the booth.

“Like I said, I know everybody. I can close anything.”

“Which is why you’re my lawyer.” Steve said with a pointed smile. “I only hire the best.”

He instantly wanted to kick himself. Things were definitely not going to as planned.

They ordered drinks quickly and Steve pulled out a small-time lawsuit that he’d drudged up from the in-house legal team. He knew it was meaningless and barely a blip on the company’s radar but Hargrove poured over it thoughtfully, sipping his water and tapping his finger on the table. When he’d read over the file, asking only a few small questions, he closed the folder and slid it to the middle of the table.

“I’ll take care of it.”

Steve blinked once.

“Just like that.”

“To be honest, one of my junior associates could have handled it in their sleep.” Hargrove replied, hands folded on the table. “But I think you knew that.”

_Shit._

Steve reached out to take the file, his temperature skyrocketing as he wished he’d sent a VP instead. When he grabbed the folder, Hargrove’s fingers shot out to anchor it in place on the tablecloth.

“Why did you really ask me here?” Hargrove spoke in a hushed, low voice. Steve swallowed, his confidence suffering under the man’s silky tone.

“Mr. Hargrove—”

“Billy.” Hargrove sat back in his seat. “Please.”

“Billy.” Steve tried again, hand twitching on his thigh at the impulse to adjust his tie, straighten his jacket, or do anything to physically reign himself in. He was nervous, pulled apart at the seams by Billy Hargrove’s smile. His striking appearance. His everything, it seemed. “Your firm has been a valuable asset to Harrington Enterprises for a while now.” Billy nodded.

“Your company is my biggest client. _You_ are my biggest client.”

“Exactly.” Steve breathed. _Which is why I can’t let myself wind up in bed with you. You’re too fucking important._

“I can’t afford to jeopardize that relationship, in any way.”

“What’s jeopardizing our relationship?” Billy asked innocently, though his eyes sparkled. He was going to make him spell it out. Steve felt like he’d unknowingly wandered into a duel and Billy had him flailing about, looking for any sort of give. He would find none.

“At our last meeting, I acted...” Steve searched for a word, any word besides the one pounding in his skull. _Stupid._ He smoothed his hands over his tie, channeling his father’s sterile demeanor to the best of his ability. “...unprofessionally.”

Billy kept his hands folded on the table, eyes unrelenting as Steve navigated his thoughts. What he wanted to say was _let’s pretend it never happened_ but he knew that would be a lie. It _had_ happened and it had been on his mind ever since.

“How so?” Billy didn’t reveal a single ounce of emotion, his expression like marble as Steve swallowed.

_You turned me on and didn’t mind showing you. I couldn’t keep my mind off of all the things I want you to do to me._

“I didn’t have control of myself.” Were the words he settled on. “I should have been more discreet.”

“Ah.” Billy sat forward, leaning on his elbows. “You’re referring to your arousal.”

Steve steadied his breathing and did his damn best not to blush.

He would _not_ blush.

“Yes.” His voice sounded clipped and frightened, like a child, and he wanted to melt into the floor and never see Billy Hargrove’s face again. But something in the back of his mind snapped at the weakness, pulled his spine straighter and rebuked the thought. He wasn’t a child. He wasn’t a blushing idiot. He was a rich, attractive, powerful man who knew what he wanted. Clearing his throat, he nodded. “Yes.” He repeated, this time with the voice of Steve Harrington, CEO and fucking king of New York City. Billy gave him a small smile and leaned back in his seat with a casual shrug.

“It happens.”

_It happens?_

“It...what?” All the gusto from his voice faded in disbelief.

“We’re men, Harrington.” Billy stated calmly. “Sometimes we get a little...juiced at inopportune moments. It happens.”

Steve could only blink for a few moments. Juiced. That was one way of putting it. He’d been so hard he’d needed a solid twenty minutes to himself in his private bathroom, working the _juice_ out of his system. A few times.

“But getting aroused during a meeting isn’t enough to jeopardize my dedication to your company.” Billy continued. “I’ll admit, scaring the pants off of an opponent can get my blood pumping too. It’s nothing to worry about. You haven’t changed a thing.”

_Oh._

He didn’t know. Or at least he was pretending he didn’t know that what had _actually_ gotten Steve’s blood pumping during their meeting had been Billy himself. The way he’d gone after Jonathan Byers like a hungry beast, cutting down everything the man said with precision. He’d been unstoppable and flawless and Steve had been helpless. His imagination had run wild, imagined Billy Hargrove using that same powerful aggression on _him._ He’d imagined being pinned down and savagely sucked off, writhing against the cold, glass conference table. He’d watched Billy smile across the table at Jonathan Byers with chilling confidence and imagined that same look on the guy’s face while he held Steve on the edge of an orgasm, keeping him suspended until he begged.

No, the meeting hadn’t been the cause of the raging hard-on in Steve’s fitted slacks. It’d been Billy Hargrove. Pure and simple.

And he was pretending he didn’t know.

“Thank you.” Steve said softly. “For understanding.”

“Of course.” Billy flashed him a stunning smile. “Now. What are you thinking?”

Steve started and fumbled for a reply. What was he thinking? He was actually still thinking about how much he wanted to get his hands on the thick biceps under Billy’s Armani jacket.

“Thinking?”

“For lunch.” Billy grinned, like a goddamn wolf, and looked down at his menu. “The lasagna is to die for but I’m feeling something leaner.”

“Right.” Steve said, shaking his head. “I’m a fan of the chicken caprese, actually.”

“Hmm. If Antony makes it, I’m sure it’s incredible.” Billy gave a nod. “He can do no wrong, that guy.”

Steve tried not to bristle in annoyance at the compliment.

“So how do you know each other?” He asked passively, eyes still focused on his menu like it was a novel. In truth, he couldn’t read most of the Italian on the page, but he knew enough to sound smart in front of the right people. Mostly women. He knew how to order wine and use a few key words to make himself look more worldly. But he knew better than to try that here and now. Billy wasn’t some arm candy that wouldn’t know any different.

“We met a few years back through mutual friends.” Setting his menu aside, Billy clasped his hands together on the table again, chest wide in a comfortable and open stance. He looked so relaxed; it made Steve a little crazy. Billy Hargrove was a cool customer. Nothing rattled his cage. Nothing put him on edge.

Steve, on the other hand, had been sweating this lunch for days; and now that the hard part was over, he was getting jealous over a friendship with a chef. _Jesus._

“Oh. What’s he like?” His question was vague and he prayed for a vague answer, finally putting his menu aside. Billy reached out for his water and put it to his lips, a smirk curling the corner of his mouth.

“Hot, muscular blondes.”

Steve’s pulse stuttered and he could have sworn the whole restaurant came to a pause while he thought up a response. There he was, back on that conference table, pinned underneath a strong and oh so feral Billy while he happily submitted to every touch.

Then he was faced with the image of Antony DiBartolo, with his long, black hair, soft body and dark brown eyes, underneath Billy’s chiseled frame. He hid a wince and went for his water glass, his throat closing with jealousy.

“Ah.” Was the best reply he could drudge up. Billy watched him take a slow drink of water before he laughed.

“I’m kidding.” Steve let out a relieved laugh while a flush of embarrassment heated his neck. Billy didn’t seem to notice. “He’s a great guy and talented as hell. We met in Boston and we both grew up out west.”

“Really? You’re not from New York?” Steve had always imagined Billy growing up exactly as he had, a New York City brat. Billy shook his head and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, like suddenly he was uncomfortable talking about himself. Steve noted the way his face slid into a sort of vulnerable expression before it snapped back, locked in with confidence.

“No, I moved out to Boston when I was eighteen. Got into Harvard. Then after I graduated I got an internship in the big apple and never left.” He gestured like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was, Steve could tell. There was a lot more to that story than a simple hop on the map. There was a lot more to Billy.

“Wow. I had no idea.” He remarked, shaking his head. “Big, bad attorney, Billy Hargrove, grew up in…”

“Indiana.” Billy finished with a small nod. “Yeah, we’re not all Manhattan royalty.” He added with a cocky smile. Steve wanted to return the smile but the term _royalty_ struck a chord in his head, tightening his chest. Placing one hand on the tablecloth, he smoothed his palm over the material.

“Trust me…” He said quietly. “There were plenty of times I would have loved to not be such.”

“Yeah, when?” Billy asked, his tone nearly a challenge but with a playful smile. Steve warmed at the look. Billy was his lawyer, after all; he already knew the worst of his skeletons.

“When I was sixteen, I threw a party in one of the suites of the Hilton. The cops came and everything went sideways so fast.” He gestured in front of himself with both hands. “ _Party Playboy Trashes Downtown Hilton_.” Billy snorted.

“Catchy.”

“Yeah. My picture was in the papers for a month. Not good ones, either.” He added with a grin, fueled by the laughter in Billy’s eyes. “When the whole city has seen you in your underwear, being hauled out of an elevator by the police, you don’t live it down.”

“So you embraced the playboy thing, huh?” Billy leaned in, weight settling onto his elbows once again. He looked intrigued. Steve shrugged.

“Right up until it nearly ruined my life, yeah.” He tried to disguise the bitterness in his tone but failed. Steve recognized the look of realization on Billy’s face. Surely, he’d read all about his arrest when he’d been hired by Harrington Enterprises. He probably knew all the facts as they existed in police records. He knew about the prostitutes and the partying and the coke.

Yet the look on Billy’s face wasn’t disgust, like the one Steve’s father had regularly worn after his arrest. The look on Billy’s face was free of judgement. Open and kind.

“Worked out okay, if you ask me. You turned your life around. Your father retired and Harrington Enterprises is thriving.”

Steve sighed and nodded. It was that simple, wasn’t it? He’d done what he had to in order to get his life back on track. And now here he was, his goals realized. Steve basked in the relief at Billy’s words.

“Yeah. Although, I have to give you some credit.” He said with a sly smile. “Your firm did some pretty heavy damage control when I took over for my dad.”

“I can handle anything the press can dish out.” Billy said, a cocky smirk on his lips. Steve’s body tingled. The guy’s confidence was a major turn-on and it had him replying impulsively.

“My attack dog.”

When Billy gave a little laugh, Steve wondered if maybe he’d gone too far. But the grin on Billy’s face was anything but uncomfortable.

“I like it.” His expression shifted, eyes locked on Steve with a heated stare. “After all, I go for the throat.”


	4. Billy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He truly couldn’t get enough of Steve Harrington’s smile. It was contagious, eliciting several hard laughs from him over the course of their meal, and Steve held his attention like nothing had in a long time. He would listen to endless silly stories if it meant more time at that table, drinking coffee and forgetting everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to my [Sarah](http://moderateslytherin.tumblr.com) for reading my drafts and telling me how to make it better. ;) Enjoy!

“I swear, I didn’t even know her. I stood next to her at some red carpet thing and suddenly we were secretly dating and she was having my baby.” Steve gave a breathy laugh and Billy felt his heart pick up speed. He truly couldn’t get enough of Steve Harrington’s smile. It was contagious, eliciting several hard laughs from him over the course of their meal, and Steve held his attention like nothing had in a long time. He would listen to endless silly stories if it meant more time at that table, drinking coffee and forgetting everything else.

“Secret love child, huh?”

“My father had the gall to ask me if there was anything I _needed to tell him_.”

Billy chuckled deep from his chest as Steve shook his head. There was a hint of annoyance in his expression but a smile nonetheless. Billy remembered a conversation he’d had with Patrick Harrington years ago. The man had described his son with the level of fondness one might have for a house plant. _He tries. With guidance and support, maybe he’ll be something someday._

“Did you ask him what he thought about being a grandfather? Let him sweat a little?”

Steve let out a healthy laugh, eyes closed as he tilted his head back.

“Shit. No, but I should have.”

“Ohh.” Billy grinned. “That’s a missed opportunity if I’ve ever heard one.” They shared a look, eyes dancing with glee. Something in Billy’s stomach twisted and he cleared his throat and looked away.

“He still doesn’t think I can handle the company, you know.”

Billy’s gaze snapped back to Steve, his grin falling from his lips.

“What?”

“My dad.” Steve fiddled with the napkin in his lap. “I can feel him watching me...waiting for me to fail. That’s why he still shows up to board meetings. That’s why he still has an office in the plaza. He thinks it’s just a matter of time before I need him.” Billy watched Steve’s throat tighten and a hot anger rose in his blood.

“He’s wrong.” His voice was harder than he’d intended. Steve’s brows rose.

“Wish you’d tell him that.” His voice was listless which stirred the vigor burning in Billy’s chest.

“I would, because I know you won’t fail.” He grinned. “You have me.” The heat spread into his stomach while Billy smoothed a hand out over his tie and put on a smirk. “As long as you have me, I’ll do everything in my power to help you and your company succeed.”

Steve’s face melted into an easy expression and he nodded.

“Thanks, Billy.”

Billy nodded and picked up his coffee to smother the groan of delight that tingled up the back of this throat. Hearing his name on Steve’s lips made him hungrier each time. He wanted to hear Steve whisper it, moan it, scream it. Over and over. As Billy took a sip of his coffee, his phone started vibrating in his pocket and Steve’s eyes fixated on the interruption. Billy hissed a small curse under his breath.

“What time is it?” He asked softly, looking at his watch while Steve did the same.

“It’s almost 2:30.”

“Shit.” He pulled out his phone and flinched at the words “Mad Max” blinking on the screen.

“I’ve kept you—”

“No, it’s fine.” Billy felt a prickle of irritation under the surface of his skin. He didn’t want the afternoon to end and he certainly didn’t want a missed meeting to be the cause. Looking up across the table, Billy watched Steve’s posture straighten from a relaxed pose to a stiff one. The spell between them had been broken and Billy was shocked at how much he lamented it.

“I shouldn’t have kept you so long.” Steve murmured, clearly embarrassed. It made Billy’s stomach clench. “I’m sorry.”

“Trust me, there is nothing on my schedule that couldn’t be handled by one of my junior associates. And you’re my most important client.”

“That doesn’t mean I can monopolize your time.”

“That’s exactly what it means.” Billy replied with a smirk, pulling out his phone to dramatically press the power button until the screen went dark. “You pay me to be at your beck and call. No questions asked.”

Steve grinned and sipped his coffee and Billy nearly purred. He knew what that sinful, pouty mouth would taste like. He’d watched Steve eat every bite of his chicken, watched him finish off a tiramisu, and drink coffee after coffee. Billy was dying to know what that plush bottom lip would feel like in his teeth. He was starving to have all of the flavors of Steve Harrington burned into his memory. His mouth, his skin, his come, all of him.

“So, you’re billing me for this?” Steve asked with an arched brow. Billy put on his best smile and leaned back in his seat.

“If I didn’t...then this would have been a date.” Steve’s face went slack with shock and Billy had to laugh. It was too easy to ruffle the feathers on the guy. “I’m going to bill you, don’t worry. Try not to look so terrified.”

“I—” Steve put down his coffee and cleared his throat, his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. Billy’s skin was humming as his mind conjured up the image of Steve’s body flushing well below his collar, down his chest to two, tight nipples. “If this was a date, the table would have been better.” _If this was a date, I would have had you naked, thoroughly fucked and begging for more an hour ago._

Billy grinned.

“You ever need a reservation, I’m your man.”

When Steve didn’t look away, Billy’s mouth went dry. He felt the opportunity present itself, the moment opening like a door. One suggestion and he could have Steve Harrington at his mercy in the men’s restroom in under a minute. After that, Billy would have him hooked like a trout on a line. It would probably be the best sex of Billy’s life. It would definitely be the best sex of Steve’s.

And it would be a huge mistake.

The realization dawned on Billy in a cold wave. If he slept with Steve Harrington, his world would become messy. He didn’t cross professional boundaries which meant he definitely didn’t sleep with clients. It kept things neat. It kept things clear. Besides, what he felt for Steve Harrington would be fleeting compared to relationship of Harrington Enterprises and Hargrove Adams.

So Billy let the moment pass and the door closed, their waiter returning with the check. Steve took it and signed with a pleasant smile while Billy silently chided himself. He was an idiot for wanting Steve Harrington; but it stop him from wanting him, relishing the hum of lust that rushed up his spine when Steve glanced up with his deep, gorgeous eyes.  

“Let me know when Byers calls.” Steve said, standing from his seat and buttoning his jacket. Billy robotically stood and nodded.

“Of course. I’ll call your assistant and set up a meeting as soon as I hear anything.”

They shook hands and Billy kept it brief, for his own sake more than anything. Touching Steve made him tingle all over, despite the chaste nature of a handshake. The farewell was over without another word and Billy stayed standing to watch Steve leave. The guy was practically strutting through the restaurant in his Brunello Cucinelli, hair perfectly coiffed and smile dazzling as he thanked the hostess at the door. Billy ran a hand over his jaw.

_Shit._

* * *

“I was beginning to think you were dead.” When the elevator doors opened, Max was waiting for him, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Billy sighed softly while he took in the sight of his very unhappy assistant in a white dress and five-inch, black Louboutins. He hit the lobby button in a half-hearted attempt at running.

Max stepped in the way of the closing door and arched a brow at him.

“You’re lucky I can think on my feet and had Lucas on standby.”

“I wouldn’t have hired you if you couldn’t handle it.” Billy muttered, stepping off the elevator. Max fell in step behind him. If someone could walk angrily, she did. “I got held up at the meeting with Harrington—”

“You had lunch with Steve Harrington for over three hours.” She cut him off. “And you didn’t answer your phone for one of those hours.”

“Steve is my primary. If he wants to shop for curtains for three hours, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“So it’s Steve now?”

Billy winced as he stepped into his office, wishing like hell that he had an assistant who wasn’t so observant. Max hovered in the doorway, her eyes scrutinizing his every move. He really didn’t need that.

“ _Mr. Harrington_ and I had a long discussion about the future of the relationship between Harrington Enterprises and Hargrove Adams.” Billy stated, rounding his desk. “He has a lot of ambitious ideas.”

“He’s also one of the hottest bachelors in the city.” Max replied. Billy shot her a bored stare but she merely blinked at him. “According to People magazine anyway.”

“And you’re bringing that up because...?” He asked, straightening his tie before he sat.

“Because you missed a meeting for the first time in three years and you _turned off your phone._ ” Max stepped inside his office, closing the thick glass door behind her. The noise of the office outside faded away to a faint whisper.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, spreading his hands atop his desk. “I should have called you and told you I needed to have someone fill in this afternoon.”

“Lucas is the one you should be apologizing to.” Max shot back. His temper flared.

“Look, I’ve been nice and ignored the fact that the two of you are dating…” Max opened her mouth to interrupt but Billy stood swiftly, his chair rolling backwards. “... _which,_ by the way, is against policy here at _Hargrove_ Adams. I didn’t think it was worth being a dick over, but if you think because the two of you are _together_ that the leniency and affection I have for you translates to Lucas Sinclair, you would be wrong.”

He took a breath, running a hand through his hair. It was getting long on top, to the point where it was starting to curl and he could take a handful and pull. Max nodded, the apples of her cheeks coloring ever so slightly. Billy instantly softened. Ever since he’d met her, Maxine Mayfield had been his right hand. She was smart and genuine and exactly what he needed. Most of the time.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, pulling his chair back to its proper place before he sat down.

“No. You’re right.” She answered, her wavy, red hair bouncing around her shoulders as she nodded. “I shouldn’t scold you—”

“ _You_ were right. I’ll apologize to Lucas tomorrow.” Billy interjected. “I just... have a lot on my mind.” _Like how much I shouldn’t be thinking about Steve Harrington’s big, brown eyes._

Max stepped in close, her hands resting on the edge of his desk.

“What happened at that lunch?” The second he met her gaze, Billy knew he was toast. Her face lit up with comprehension and he sighed, caressing his left temple with a hand. “OH.”

“Not, _oh_.” He muttered. “It was just lunch.”

“A lunch that went two hours over schedule.” Max perched on his desk, a grin appearing on her lips. “That almost sounds like you two had a good time.”

Billy scoffed and stood from his chair again while Max’s eyebrows shot up her forehead.

“A great time?”

“Enough, Max.”

“What I come up with in my head is going to be so much worse than what actually happened.” She retorted. “So you might as well spill, William.”

“Goodbye, Maxine.”

As she left the room, grinning like a goon, Billy walked to the window to stare out at the city. He’d lived in New York for over five years. He’d gone from struggling to pay rent to thriving, splurging on things like cars and suits and fine dining. Through it all, men were a revolving door. Billy had been with models, athletes, actors, even opposing attorneys. When something prettier came along, he’d upgrade.

Staring out across the skyscrapers, Billy wondered if that was what had him drooling over Steve Harrington. He was the apex of the male population of New York City. He was rich, attractive, and had an eye for good business. If Billy were a fisherman, Steve Harrington was a prize tuna. But as he watched the sun glint off the glass of Harrington Plaza, Billy knew that wasn’t what had kept him at that table in D'onofrio’s. He’d stayed because he _liked_ Steve Harrington. He liked him a lot.

A bolt of fear rippled through Billy as he turned away from the city, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He pulled out his phone, ripping through his contacts in search of a name.

_Antony DiBartolo_


	5. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byers is back and so is Billy. Steve tries to combat his growing attraction but his lawyer is _no_ help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated to [Sarah](http://moderateslytherin.tumblr.com), my living, breathing muse. This chapter wouldn't have been written without you. I love you to pieces.  
> Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading.

At some point, he’d stopped listening to a thing Jonathan Byers had to say. The guy grated on his nerves like sandpaper, making him want to pick up his pencil and try to nail him with the pointy end. If he were twelve, that would be an acceptable thing to do in mediation. Unfortunately, he wasn’t twelve.

Instead, he settled for staring daggers at the guy. Since he’d taken over the company, Steve had found himself pestered by Byers and his firm of bleeding hearts at every turn. Everything from property liability claims to discrimination cases that barely saw the light of day. He wasn’t quite sure what Byers had against him, but the guy was determined to waste as much of Steve’s time as possible. 

Byers was the same age as he was, as far as Steve could tell. They hadn’t travelled in the same social circles growing up, clearly, and Steve was almost glad he hadn’t had to deal with a teenage version of the guy. He was the kind of kid that would have tattled on you the moment you begged him to keep his mouth shut.

Byers was literally a tree hugger. He’d been arrested once for being present at some sort of environmentalist protest and Steve had all out snorted at the picture in the paper. He definitely looked the part of humanitarian with his long hair and dark-framed glasses. Byers wore his hair in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck and his suit was decent for what he made, which Steve assumed wasn’t much, but he usually ditched the jacket the moment he could. Rolled up sleeves, suit vest, ponytail...and the guy rode a bike. 

A bike. In manhattan. 

Steve watched Byers say something, which he apparently thought was witty as his lips curled at the ends. Whatever it was, it wasn’t funny to Billy, who barely blinked. Steve shifted his gaze to his lawyer, happy to distract himself from the thoroughly irritating presence of Jonathan Byers to focus on Billy Hargrove. 

Ever since the meeting had been scheduled, Steve had eagerly anticipated seeing Billy again. Their last meeting had been, in a word, memorable. As the days had passed, he’d been tempted to casually ask Billy for lunch again, for no other reason than to spend the time with him. But he knew that would only lead to trouble, so he’d refrained. In a way, he was glad; because when Billy had shown up at his office that morning, Steve had felt like a schoolgirl, waiting for her crush to ask her to the prom.

Billy, on the other hand, was the picture of professional. He’d greeted Steve and the other staff in the conference room and gotten right down to business before Byers had arrived. The lawsuit in question was nothing Hargrove couldn’t maneuver out of, he’d insisted. But he also had come prepared with a countersuit, which guaranteed the lawsuit would be dropped in no time. As good-hearted as Byers was, he had to make money somehow. Being sued would accomplish the opposite. 

So far, that ace was still sitting in Billy’s sleeve and Steve was watching Byers think he was winning, shooting confident remarks across the conference table to a stony-faced Billy. Steve was startled when Byers was suddenly looking at him. 

“Is that what your company is about, Mr. Harrington? Allowing your management to abuse their influence to terrorize an employee?”

Steve blinked and tried to conjure a reply. He never got the chance. 

“No.” Billy leaned over the table, a finger pointed at Byer’s face while his jaw flexed in rage. “You don’t address him directly, Byers. You speak to me.” His voice was controlled but angry, filling the room with his smooth bass. 

“If he doesn’t want to answer me, he can tell me so himself, Hargrove. Or do you do more than wipe up his messes?” Byers gave Billy a cold smile and Steve clenched his fists under the table. 

_ Asshole. _

“Mr. Harrington doesn’t go against my advice and talk to opposing counsel because he’s a smart man.” Billy said evenly. “Unlike your client, who was more than willing to talk to me about how you’ve been handling her case.”

When Byers’s mouth snapped shut, Steve watched a predatory grin spread across Billy’s face. There was blood in the water and the shark was hungry. As Byers swallowed, no doubt fishing for a reply, Billy reached into a briefcase on the floor and pulled out a folder, slapping it on the table. With one finger, he pushed it across the sleek surface.

“This is Harrington Enterprises’s lawsuit against your firm for harassment and malicious prosecution.” He let Byers open the folder and briefly look at the papers inside. “You’ll see that your client is listed as a witness.” Billy leaned forward over the table. “She was more than happy to tell me all about how you intentionally exaggerated her claim.”

Steve felt a shudder roll down his spine as Billy grinned. The guy was downright ruthless; he loved it. Steve ground his molars to keep from groaning as Billy sat back in his seat, opening his jacket in a display of ease. Comfort. 

Game. Set. Match. 

“You had this the whole time.” Byers said slowly, anger lining the man’s forehead. “You cocky sonofabitch.” 

“Oooh, Johnny.” Billy tisked lightly and shook his head. “That’s Mr. Sonofabitch to you.” 

Steve put a fist in front of his mouth to keep from laughing out loud, pretending to straighten his tie when Billy’s eyes found his. It made his insides hum, staring into Billy’s ravaging gaze. He smoothed a hand over his jacket, willing himself to calm, though his blood was already thickening with desire. 

He was horny as hell. 

His mind instantly wandered as Billy and Byers got into it, arguing in their legal jargon. He was back to imagining just how Billy would be in bed, how he’d be anywhere. Steve’s eyes roamed the room, picturing it wrecked by the two of them as they fucked on any available surface. He wondered if Billy would dominated him, or if Billy would submit. He conjured up Billy on his back, legs spread with that wolfish grin on his face. 

Steve flattened a palm over cock as it gave a hard kick. It seemed to say  _ last warning, quit thinking about fucking your lawyer _ and Steve took deep breaths in an attempt to obey. 

“Just take the goddamn settlement, Byers. Drop the lawsuit and your firm lives to fight the good fight, one more day.” 

“This is an insult.” Byers hissed, hand pressed to the agreement Billy had provided. “An insult to me, my firm…”

“Insult?” Billy laughed. “You should be on your knees thanking me, Byers.” 

Steve’s cock throbbed and he shot to his feet. 

“Sign the settlement, Byers. We both know you have no choice. Make a phone call if you have to, just...get it over with.” Straightening his jacket he composed himself. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He murmured. “I’m sure you can sign a piece of paper without me.” Steve nodded politely to the staff around the table, carefully avoiding Billy’s gaze, before he made a beeline for the door. Instead of cutting back towards Dustin’s desk, he circled the top floor and took the long way to the secondary entrance to his office.  He felt like he was dangerously close to losing control. Again. After all that progress he’d made with Billy over lunch, he was ready to go and repeat the mistake all over again. 

Striding into this private bathroom, he braced his hands on either side of the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. He was a little flushed, barely noticeable except for the pink at the apples of his cheeks. Unbuttoning his jacket, he tossed it away, running cold water over his hands before he pressed them to his face. 

“Shit.” He muttered. “Get yourself together, idiot.” He splashed more water onto this face before he tore a towel from the dispenser and wiped the drops away. His heart was racing and his cock was still half hard in his pants. Steve stared at it, adjusting his belt so the cut of his trousers disguised the situation. It helped that he’d worn looser pants. The fact that he’d intentionally chosen a more casual cut made him groan and cover his face with his hands. 

He’d wanted this, hadn’t he? He’d subconsciously wanted to feel the thrill of forbidden lust, wearing a forgiving pair of slacks so his eager  _ erection _ could be easily tucked from sight. 

“Hey.” Steve jumped at the voice just outside the door, his heart rocketing up to his eyeballs. “You alright in there?” 

_ Billy _ . 

Looking up at the mirror, Steve swallowed. 

“Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair, righted his shirt. “Just needed a second.” His hands were shaking when he turned on the faucet to run them under the water. 

“Can I come in?” 

Steve bit down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning. He would let Billy Hargrove do whatever he wanted if it meant more of  _ him. _ More of his throaty, deep voice and sinful stares. 

“Yeah.” 

He really shouldn’t have said it, but his lips were traitors. The door opened and Billy stepped inside, hand in his pocket as he looked around. 

“Byers signed the settlement.” Their eyes locked in the mirror and Steve’s heart all but stopped beating in his chest. Billy’s golden complexion was practically glowing as he stepped closer. 

“Good.” Steve muttered, swiping yet another paper towel. “I was getting tired of the endless footsie in there.” 

“Footsie?” Billy grinned. “You think I enjoy making an ass out of that idiot?”

“Yeah, I  _ do _ .” Steve said with a smirk, staring up at Billy’s reflection. “You had that countersuit in your back pocket for almost an hour—”

“I knew he didn’t have anything concrete but I wanted to be sure.” Billy stepped closer. “And yeah, maybe I like letting him think he’s got something on us before pulling the rug out.”

“Us?” Steve murmured, throat working as he swallowed. His lawyer laughed lightly, looking down at his shoes as he shook his head. Billy’s eyelashes fluttered on his cheeks, thick and dark and Steve’s stomach clenched. 

“Yeah, Steve. Us.” Another step closer. Blue eyes found him again in the mirror. “Me. You.” 

“Us.” Steve breathed. His cock gave a hard kick against his thigh and he knew Billy would be able to see, standing so close. He also knew he could tell Billy to leave. 

He didn’t. 

“Right.”

“Come on, Harrington.” Billy said with a grin, eyes sweeping down Steve’s profile. Steve’s skin prickled with awareness as he started to sweat. “We’re a team, yeah?”

“If you can call me watching you play with your food  _ teamwork _ , sure.” He retorted. Billy’s laugh filled the small bathroom and Steve grinned at the sound. 

“I like that.” The guy purred, nodding his head. “Playing with my food.”

“You do.” Steve added. His hands were practically raw from wiping them for far too long. He tossed the paper into the trash. “If I didn’t want to punch Byers in the face every time I saw him, I might actually feel bad for the guy.”

“Fuck him.” Billy snorted. “He’s a big fish from a little pond and hasn’t figured out he’s swimming in ocean waters now.” 

“Let me guess.” Steve crossed his arms, smirking. “You’re the shark in this analogy?” His stomach twisted with wanton desire as he watched Billy smile, oozing confidence. 

“Hell yeah, I am.” 

“Out for blood?” Steve asked, a brow raised. 

Billy took one more step and Steve gulped down a moan. He could feel the heat of the guy’s breath against the back of his neck. 

“Always.” Steve watched Billy shamelessly rake his eyes up and down his back in the mirror. “I’m the best lawyer in the city.” Billy purred, chest nearly flush to Steve’s spine. “There’s nothing I can’t handle.” Hands appeared on Steve’s shoulders and a shuddering breath lurched from his lungs as big palms moved against hard muscles, easing the tension coiled there. 

“Fuck.” Steve whispered, his body throbbing. Billy grinned at him in the mirror. 

“You’re wound tight, Steve. Relax.” 

He wanted to take one of Billy’s massaging hands and put it where he really needed it. Staring at the guy in the mirror, Steve contemplated telling him just how wound up he is, what he really needed Billy to handle. He knew the exact moment Billy saw his hardening cock, eyes locking on the ridge growing along his thigh, when Billy’s tongue flicked out to wet his pouty bottom lip. Steve nearly whined at the sight, biting down on his own lip to keep the sound down. 

_ Say my name again.  _

He fantasized about Billy reaching around to unzip his fly, shoving a hand down his pants so Steve could watch while he fisted his cock and milked him dry. He wanted to fuck the warm palm on his shoulder, wanted to come all over it until he was shaking and boneless while Billy moaned his name. Over and over. 

“You’re the most powerful motherfucker in this city.” Billy murmured, staring into Steve’s eyes as he ground his fingers into the meat of his shoulders. Steve’s cock wept in his boxer briefs. “And I’ve got your back.”  

“All I have to do is watch you play, huh?” Steve managed to breathe, letting more of his weight settle back into Billy’s hands. His magical, talented hands. Billy’s muffled laugh vibrated against Steve’s shoulder blades. A moan was strangled in his throat as he gulped down a mouthful of air.  _ Touch me.  _ His cock throbbed and his fingers dug into his own biceps as he fought to keep himself from spinning around. Spinning around and tasting the delicious mouth that hovered near his ear and continued to whisper.

“Sometimes it’s fun to just watch.”

_ Jesus. _

Steve gave up and spun around to come face to face with the panty-melting grin on Billy’s lips. The lust pounded out of him. Thick in the room like steam from a shower, it clung to his skin and lungs. He breathed it in, happy to drown in the tangible sense of hunger between them as Billy’s eyes prowled over his face, lingered on his mouth long enough to make his stomach quake _.  _ He knew that he could have everything he wanted from Billy Hargrove in that moment. He knew that if he reached out and grabbed his lawyer by the neck he could pin him to the wall and have his way. Billy would let him. And then he’d descend on Steve like the shark he was and tear him to bits. Delirious, blissful bits. 

_ “Mr. Harrington?”  _

Dustin’s voice rocked the room like an earthquake and Steve shot backwards, ramming his hips into the countertop behind him. 

“Yeah?” He called, rubbing a hand on his ass while Billy smothered a laugh, fingers tracing his dark facial hair. 

_ “Uh, did you need anything else from the folks in legal?”  _

Steve raised an eyebrow and Billy shook his head. 

“No, they can go.” 

_ “Alright then.” _ His assistant replied. Steve breathed a sigh of relief.  _ “You okay in there?” _

“YEAH DUSTIN.” He nearly shouted, frustration mounting from the tight discomfort of his arousal and the interruption that had denied him release. “Just, give me a bit.” 

_ “Okay. Okay. Message received.” _

Footsteps moved away from the door and Steve sagged against the counter, rubbing a hand over his face as he groaned.

“Jesus.”

“He sounds like my assistant.” Billy said with an easy smile. “She’s constantly mothering me.”

“I get enough shit from my real mother, I really don't need another.” Steve snorted. “The kid would follow me in here if he could.” 

Billy ran his tongue over his bottom lip and Steve forgot how to breathe. 

“Well...you let me.” His lawyer playfully shrugged. “Guess that makes me special.”

“Yeah.” Steve scoffed, sliding his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, you could say that.” Their eyes locked and Steve wondered if maybe he could salvage the moment, if maybe—

“I’d better go.” Billy purred, his eyes shifting down and away towards the door. “Before Mr. Mom comes back and checks on you again.”

_ I’ll send him home. I send the whole building home. _

“Right.” He nodded, his heart falling to his stomach. “Right.”

“I’ll be by tomorrow, to drop off paperwork.” Billy added and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Lots of t’s to cross with this settlement so Byers stays the fuck off our radar for a while.”

“Good, yeah. Sounds good.” Steve flinched at his own lame attempt at conversation. But Billy didn’t seem to care. He smiled warmly before nodding.

“See you tomorrow then.”

“Look forward to it.” 

_ Dammit. _


	6. Billy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The simple use of his name had Billy’s lips parting, his breath winding out of him in a prolonged drag. He used to smoke like that, used to let his lungs slowly empty until the grey smoke would curl around his head. Now he found himself craving a cigarette, wanting so desperately to put his mouth on something and _suck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sarah, babe, my muse: I love ya. Hope y'all enjoy!

Billy had intended to get laid that night. After the meeting at Harrington Enterprises, he had _needed_ to get laid and everything had been in place. The reservation at Bon Vie, the romantic table overlooking the city, and his best suit. He’d set up the board to take home the prize, but he was solo when he left the restaurant and appeared on the street. He found his driver, Gary, on the sidewalk and the guy seemed surprised that he was returning alone. Billy couldn’t help but feel the same.

“You ready, sir?” His driver asked, eyes searching the restaurant’s entrance for a possible straggler.

“Yes, thank you, Gary.” Billy said softly. He got into the car with a grunt and ran his fingers through his hair.

He was off his game. In the past week, he’d made dates with two of his regular bed mates, only to wind up making excuses and leaving on his own. Tonight had been the same. Tonight had been _torture_. Sitting at a five star restaurant with a gorgeous, intelligent man, Billy had only been able to think about Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington backed up against a sink, lips parted, eyes begging for Billy to just _do it already._

Gary pulled the car away from the curb and Billy thought about Steve’s hungry looks and his big, hard cock. A second longer in that bathroom and the two of them would have wound up fucking on the floor. Billy knew it. Steve knew it. The guy was jonesing for Billy the way Billy was equally as desperate to get his hands on all of him. Every. Inch. He was at war with himself.

On the one side, his professional self was reeling from his behavior that morning. Having sex with a client was a terrible idea. Beyond terrible, deplorable. It could cost him and the firm their best client, his biggest client. It would be messy and stupid.

On the other, his libido was pleading with him to _give in_ . Give in to the breathtaking chemistry that simmered between them and _live_ for the recklessness of it all. Give into a night of sweaty, no-holds-barred sex that would destroy a hotel room and leave him sore for days. It would be messy and delicious.

The latter won. Giving into impulse, he dug his phone out of his pocket and pulled up his contacts. His finger hovered over the number like his brain was saying _last chance, idiot_ before he tapped the glass and waited.

It rang once. Twice. Then there was a beat of silence and a voice.

“Hello?”

Billy chuckled at the unmistakable sound of a man answering an unknown phone number. Why CEO Steve Harrington would ever answer an unknown caller was a mystery; but as a wave of pleasure rolled down his spine at the guy’s voice, Billy was sure glad he did.

“I take it you don’t have my number saved in your phone.”

There was a clamor of noise and Billy grinned, picturing Steve flustered. Which, if the small curse he heard told him anything, it was that Steve Harrington had been caught off guard. And he was _flustered_.

“Hargrove.” Steve’s voice was breathy and Billy nibbled on his bottom lip in delight.

“We’re back to Hargrove now?” He tried to keep his voice from wavering into serious territory. His palms started to sweat as worry struck him. Maybe he’d been too forward that afternoon. Maybe this delicate tango was finally over.

“No. Sorry, Billy. I’m just...it’s been a long day.”

 _Tell me about it._ “You still at the office?”

“Yeah. I’m still...going through stuff. There’s a board meeting next week.”

Billy hummed.

“The third wednesday of the month. I remember.”

“I hate them.” Steve sighed, hard and long into the phone. “Make me nervous. Always have.”

“Funny, you always seem fine.” Billy knocked on the driver’s window. When the guy looked up, Billy flashed a hundred dollar bill and pointed out the side window.

“I used to get high.” Steve muttered. “But Dustin put a stop to that.”

Billy chuckled softly into the phone as Gary arched a brow. Billy caught the guy’s eye in the rearview mirror and mouthed two words. The man’s brow flattened and he nodded, pulling a U turn in the middle of the street.

“You, high? I can’t believe it.” Billy feigned shock, recalling the first board meeting he’d attended at Harrington Enterprises. Steve had only been there as a formality while his father was still CEO and Billy could barely recall Steve speaking, let alone any odd behaviour.

“High as a fucking kite.”

Billy let his laugh fill the cab of the car.

“I’m shocked.” He teased. “Damn, I wish I’d known.” _I wish we’d been like this before._

“Ha, right.” Steve snorted. “You would have made me look like an idiot.”

“Now, why would I do that?” He slouched in the back seat, a grin spreading on his lips. “I would never—”

“You’re smart.” Steve interrupted. “Sometimes I can almost see you running circles around me.”

Billy’s smile faded at Steve’s soft voice.

“You’re pretty clever yourself, Harrington.”

“Hmm, not like you.” The sound of the car filled the silence and Billy wished he was with Steve now, so he could be staring at those brown eyes instead of the back of Gary’s head. “And we’re back to Harrington now?”

Another laugh purred in Billy’s chest.

“Steve.” He said the name slow, deep. Let it grind out of his chest. “Old habits.” He added with a grin. A grin that made Gary arch a brow at him in the rearview mirror.

“Billy.” The simple use of his name had Billy’s lips parting, his breath winding out of him in a prolonged drag. He used to smoke like that, used to let his lungs slowly empty until the grey smoke would curl around his head. Now he found himself craving a cigarette, wanting so desperately to put his mouth on something and _suck._

“Yeah?”

“I need a drink.” Steve groaned. Billy let out a light chuckle.

“You got a bar in that office?” He asked, running his tongue along his front teeth.

“Yeah. And about four hundred bottles of water. Apparently I don’t drink enough water.”

Billy dropped his head back, closed his eyes, and let out a laugh.

“I swear, your assistant is just as bad as mine.”

“Hmmm, does she play bridge with your maid?”

Billy stared straight up at the ceiling.

“Shit, really?”

“No. Just curious.”

Shaking his head, Billy closed his eyes again and chuckled. Steve made a similar sound on the other end of the line and something suddenly dawned on Billy. He had missed this _._ After one lunch with Steve, he’d gone looking for companionship with someone else and had been unable to fill the gap. He hadn’t realized it then, but he knew it now: Steve was what he’d missed. Just _Steve_.

“I’d offer you a nightcap, but I’m sure you’re on the other side of the city by now.” Steve said softly into the phone. Billy grinned.

“Funny you should say that. My driver seems to have had a senior moment and took me back downtown.”

Gary frowned up at him in the mirror and Billy winked.

“Funny.” Steve laughed. “Was this before or after you called me?”

“Does it matter?” Billy purred.

There was a small pause on the other line and Billy held his breath.

“Come join me?”

“On my way.”

* * *

Mercifully there was no one except a lone security guard at the front desk when he showed, someone named Troy that seemed to recognize him and let him in without issue. Billy didn’t remember Troy, but he didn’t let it bother him. Not when his mind was focused so acutely on the task of _getting upstairs_. He was practically jumping out of his skin to get to the executive floor, hands clasped in front of his waist in an attempt at composure.

When he stepped off the elevator, the door to Steve’s office was open, the assistant’s desk outside empty. Billy straightened his tie, took a breath, and walked through the doorway.

“Knock knock.” He called, his voice a little too light and nervous for his liking. But he forgot all about that the moment his eyes settled on Steve.

The guy looked tired. His jacket was tossed over the back of his office chair and his hair looked like it had been combed by his fingers several times over. Steve had taken off his tie, opened the top button of his collar and his sleeves are rolled up to the elbow. He was the picture of hardworking and it made Billy’s mouth go dry. Reclined in an sitting area, Steve brightened the moment he'd appeared and something inside Billy's stomach fluttered.

“Hey.” Steve said with an easy smile, eyes wrinkling at the corners. He already had two glasses sitting on the coffee table in the middle of his office, a decanter of some amber-colored booze waiting.

“Well.” Billy made a point to look around the room, impressed by the desk filled with paperwork. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were going through some stuff.” He walked by the desk, running his fingers over a stack of folders. “Don’t you have an assistant who could be helping you with all this?”

“I like going through things myself sometimes.” Steve said with a groan. “I don’t like depending on someone else to know what I should know.”

“Good point.” Billy nodded, shooting Steve a grin. “Smart.”

“Ha. Sure.” Steve slumped back in an armchair. “It’s just more work to keep me from feeling unprepared.”

“When were you ever unprepared for a board meeting?” Billy asked, taking the seat beside Steve in a matching chair. The leather was new and the cushion was firm, probably used twice since it had been placed in the fancy office. Steve sat forward and motioned to the glasses.

“Whiskey?”

“Please.”

Steve poured two generous glasses and handed one to Billy, then resumed his relaxed pose, taking a small sip.

“I think I was asked a question in a physics class in college…” He took another sip and Billy raised an eyebrow. “...and I didn’t know the answer. I had been too busy getting drunk the night before.” Rolling his head towards Billy, he looked him right in the eye. “The professor ripped me to shreds, in front of a lecture of two hundred people.” He gestured with two hands, one clutching his whiskey. “A whole room of people, laughing at me.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. It was like that nightmare...you know the one…”

“Showing up to class in your underwear.”

“Right, that one.” Steve took a bigger swig of his whiskey and Billy followed, letting the sharp taste hit the back of his throat before he swallowed it down. “It was one of the worst things that’s ever happened to me.” Sitting forward, Steve leaned on his knees and looked around the room. “That’s why I do all this.” He swept one hand in front of him. “I pour over everything so he won’t catch me off guard.”

“He?” Billy arched a brow and Steve sighed, hanging his head. His hair was long enough that it fell forward over his eyes and Billy watched his profile, wondering what it would feel like to run his fingers through all that soft, brown hair. “Your dad.”

“Mmmm.” Steve took a long drink and Billy wondered if maybe he’d already had one before he’d come up. He seemed looser than he had been that morning. More genuine.

“Don’t worry about him.” Billy murmured, catching Steve’s eye as the guy looked up. “You’re the CEO. He can’t take that away from you.”

“He can.” Steve said gently. “He reminds me all the time.”

“Let me clarify.” Billy sat forward, elbows on his knees. “I won’t let him take it away from you.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment, then a sweet smile spread across his features.

“You mean that, don’t you.” His eyes danced between Billy’s, as if they held the answers. “You’re on my side in this. All of it.”

“Sure am.” Billy grinned, tossing back the whiskey that remained in his glass. It burned its way down his throat to his belly and warmed him from the inside out. The second he set his glass on the table, Steve filled both of their glasses again.

“He wanted me to be so much more than just CEO.” Steve murmured, holding his whiskey in both hands. “He wanted me to be _just_ like him.”

“A stuffy conservative who golfs too much?” Billy wagged his eyebrows and Steve snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Married.” Billy’s laughter faded and he swallowed. _Married._ “When he was my age, I was already born. And my mother was onto her second husband.”

“That was a different time.”

“Was it?” Steve sighed and swirled the alcohol in his glass, watched it slosh up the sides. “I proposed to Maria almost five years ago.” Billy took a drink, welcoming the burn in his stomach. “If we’d gotten married, like he wanted, I could have a kid. I could have two.”

“If’s are dangerous.” Billy murmured. “I’ve learned to stay clear of them.”

Their eyes locked and Steve smiled but he looked worn. Tired.

“How about you, Billy?” He asked, sitting up in his chair to stare at him head-on. “Ever come close?”

“To...getting married?” Billy’s throat closed a little and he coughed a laugh, suddenly unable to look Steve in the eye. “Nah. Not for me.”

“No girlfriend has tried to tie you down, huh?”

Billy looked up and scanned Steve’s face. There was no teasing, no coy smile. Just curiosity, open and warm. He laughed again.

“Steve…” He shook his head, releasing another chuckle. “I’m gay.”  

Silence stretched between them for agonizing seconds before Billy finally dared to meet Steve’s gaze. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were parted.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Billy snorted and Steve shook his head, waving a hand.

“No no. Not sorry about— I just mean— I didn’t—”

“I know what you meant.” Billy grinned, thoroughly amused at the red blush that was spreading down Steve’s face to his throat. “Just giving you a hard time.”

“Ah.” Steve swirled his whiskey, looking away with a sheepish expression. “I didn’t realize you…” His eyes found Billy’s and he swore his heart held still.

“I don’t really advertise it.” Billy offered with a half shrug. “But I don’t hide it either.”

“That’s good. That’s…” Steve nodded. “Shit.” Setting his glass down, he clapped his hands on his knees. “I made this weird.”

“It’s not weird.” Billy grinned, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not embarrassed.” Steve blinked at him, fingers twitching on his legs, before he finally sat back in his chair again.

“Can I ask you something?”

Billy took a sip and nodded. “Shoot.”

“When did you know?” Steve cleared his throat and his gaze faltered for a moment before he seemed to gather himself and clarified. “I mean, when did you realize you were attracted to men?”

“When I was twelve.” Billy said carefully, tapping a finger on his glass. “I had a crush on a boy in my class.”

“Twelve.” Steve murmured, nodding. “And you just...never liked women?”

Billy sighed, adjusting in his seat. “I appreciated women in a different way.” He started, worrying the inside of his cheek as he thought back. He’d always been able to admire the beauty of a pretty face, regardless of gender. “But they didn’t _interest_ me the way men did.”

“Huh.” Steve nodded, running a finger around the rim of his glass on the table. “So...you never…”

“Slept with girls?” Billy finished, flashing a dazzling smile when Steve’s cheeks reddened ever so slightly. “Yeah. I did.”

“Oh.” Steve seemed to ponder, a line forming between his brows.

“But that was high school. That was what you were supposed to do.” Billy shrugged and downed the rest of his whiskey. “Didn’t stop me from having sex with guys too.”

Steve’s eyes locked onto his and Billy _ached_ . _Just say the word and I’ll get on my knees._

“Sorry.” Steve shook his head. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Like I said.” Billy set down his glass and shrugged. “I’m not embarrassed.” That seemed to put Steve at ease and he leaned back, fixing his gaze on Billy’s face.

“Does your family know?” Billy’s breath caught in his throat and he instinctively went for his tie. Immediately, Steve was shooting forward in his chair, posture stiff. “Shit, that’s way too—”

“No.” Billy waved a hand. “It’s fine. I just…” He breathed a laugh and looked up into the big, brown eyes staring back at him. “I haven’t talked about my family in a long time.”

“You don’t have to.” Steve whispered. “I don’t want to make you...uncomfortable.” Billy sighed, searching those brown eyes for a reason to say no. Say no and leave his past out of his future.

“I’m gonna need more whiskey.”

Steve bobbed his head and happily complied, handing the full glass over. Billy took a sip, savored the tang on his tongue, then hummed as he stretched out in the armchair.

“My dad suspected, since I was a kid.” He started, surprised at how easily the words came to him. “He called me a faggot when I was ten and the name sorta stuck.”

Steve winced and Billy wanted to tell him it was fine. He wanted to reach out and touch his knee and say that he’d made it out okay. That it wasn’t a big deal. But it _had_ been a big deal. It had been the worst years of his life, growing up with Neil Hargrove.

But Steve didn’t need to know the extent of all that.

“I was confused about what I felt for a long time.” He continued. “And he made me feel guilty about it. Made me feel like there was something wrong with me.” Steve’s crumpled face made Billy want to stop talking, but the words didn’t slow. “He caught me once, with a boy, and he moved us across the country. He never had anything nice to say to me after that.” _He also beat me senseless and never loved me again._

“Billy.” Steve’s voice was strained and it made Billy’s chest lurch. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not.” Billy drank his whiskey and shrugged his shoulders. “The bastard made me thick-skinned. I wouldn’t have gotten through Harvard and succeeded in this fucking city without that. I wouldn’t change a thing.” He lifted his glass and Steve joined him.

“To our shitty fathers.” Steve said, a weak smile on his face.

Billy wanted to kiss him.

For the first time, it wasn’t an impulse driven by lust. He wanted to reach out and run his fingers along Steve’s jaw, bring him closer so he could brush his lips against his and just kiss him. To thank him. To enjoy him.

“To Neil fucking Hargrove.” Billy added, tipping back his glass to drain the contents.

* * *

When they'd emptied the decanter, it was Steve who suggested they open a bottle of tequila. It was Billy who brought them two water bottles from the bar instead.

“Max will kill me if I come in with a hangover.” He muttered, groaning as he plopped back into his chair. “Harrington.” He grunted, fidgeting in the seat. “These are fucking awful.”

“I know.” Steve grumbled, his legs slung over one armrest. “My dad picked them for his office so—” He made a rude sound with his mouth and Billy snorted, smacking one of Steve’s shoes.

“What, you can’t buy yourself new chairs?”

“You gonna pick ‘em out for me, sweetheart?” Steve sneered, cheeks rosy, not from embarrassment but booze. Billy grinned at him from his chair, ignoring how _sweetheart_ made his insides clench.

“I would get you something that’s a hell of a lot better than this.” He retorted, hitting an armrest with a fist. “Rocks would be more comfortable.”

“Uh huh. Sorry my chairs aren’t up to your ass’s standards.”

Billy rolled his head around to meet Steve’s eyes, sticking his tongue out to run the tip over his bottom lip. “I have high standards.”

“Ha.” Steve snorted. “I’m sure you do.” They stared for a minute, neither of them daring to break the connection. It was like that afternoon, standing in the bathroom. Billy wanted to reach out, take Steve by the collar, and show him just how _good_ it would be. How good they’d be. He’d been with enough men to know when it clicked and when it didn’t, although this wasn’t like anything else he’d experienced. Not really. With Steve, he itched to touch like an addict looking for a hit. He was the desperate one when he was usually the passive one. He was choosy and never invested anything more than an evening of sex in any of the men he brought home.

Steve...wasn’t that.

Frankly, it terrified him. Steve was gasoline and Billy was standing there with a match, ready to burn the city down. They’d burn and burn.

“Hey.” Steve snickered, sitting up a little. “Did you hear me?”

“What?” Billy shook his head, fumbling for his bottle of water. He needed to sober up. Quickly.

“I asked you…” Steve suddenly looked bashful, running a hand over his mouth. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

Billy froze and a dribble of water leaked from the corner of his mouth. As he wiped it away, Steve’s eyes followed.

“Uhh, no. You?”

Steve’s face went slack before he wrinkled his nose and leaned back in the chair.

“Depends on what you call _seeing._ ” He muttered. “I guess my standards are high too...” Licking his lips, Billy felt dizzy. He was drunk and absolutely dying to prove to Steve that he wasn’t _just_ good enough for him. “Maria was good enough. I thought I loved her.” Steve said without warning, his eyes glazing over in recollection.

Billy remembered seeing pictures of Maria Moreno on a runway during fashion week a few years back. She was beautiful, that was easy to see. She and her two brothers were heirs to an empire of some sort, an industry based out of the south. Rich, like Steve. Beautiful, like Steve.

“Thought you loved her?” He heard himself asking, his voice rougher than he’d intended. Big, doe eyes caught his and Billy sucked down a hard breath.

“Did you truly love someone if you never miss them?” Steve blinked and Billy saw just how _drained_ he was, unfiltered and in high definition. He leaned forward over his knees.

“Depends on how it ended, I think.” Billy said honestly, looking away to stare down at the carpet between his shoes.

“Ah, so you know.” Steve groaned, sitting up. “Who was he?”

Billy arched a brow and lifted his head. “Who was who?”

“The guy you loved.” Steve clarified with a wave of his water bottle.

His stomach turned over as the words sunk in. _The guy he loved._ Billy swallowed back the burn of bile, wishing with all his might that he hadn’t said a word. 

“Oh shit.” Steve murmured. “I’m on a roll. Ignore my dumb ass.” He grunted, standing from his seat. “Want another?” He waved an empty water bottle in the air. Billy settled for a nod as Steve carefully crossed the room, his walk only slightly wobbly.

“Boy.” He croaked out, just as Steve opened the mini fridge. The guy slowly closed it, the tiny click of the door filling the silence.

“Boy?”

“The boy I loved.” Billy unbuttoned the collar of his shirt one more button until he felt like he could breathe again. “We were sixteen.” _Sixteen and madly in love._

“Wow.” Steve came back, a bottle held out in one hand. Billy took it, happy to have something in his empty hands. “I don’t think I knew how to be anything but selfish at sixteen.”

Billy cracked a smile and allowed himself to look up. Steve stood less than a foot away and Billy wanted to close the gap, wrap his arms around Steve’s trim waist and bury his face in his crisp, white shirt. He shook away the impulse and nodded.

“Yeah, everyone is selfish at sixteen.”

“What was his name?” Steve hadn’t moved from where he stood.

“Adam.” Billy breathed out. The pain from the name had long faded until there was nothing but a slight pulse of memory in its place. A flicker of recollection. With a deep sigh, Billy downed most of his water, chasing away images in his head. Images of sunny beaches and salty skin. The water was cold and clean and grounded him when he set the bottle down on the coffee table. “He wound up dumping me for some senior chick.”

“A girl?” Steve scoffed. 

“He was a switch hitter.” Billy shrugged. “Didn’t matter much, I moved away about a year later and forgot all about him.” _Liar._

Steve tapped a finger on his water bottle, staring at Billy with an unreadable expression. Then suddenly he wasn’t a foot away, he sitting on the armrest of Billy’s chair.

“Adam was a dick.” He stated confidently, throwing his head back to take a long drink of his water. Billy snorted and shoved him a little, laughing when Steve ended up spilling a bit on his slacks.

“I got over it.” He said softly. “It was just a dumb, teenage love. Nothing a few years of chasing hotter guys didn’t fix.” Billy winked up at Steve, who stared down at him with an easy smile. Then the look shifted, slid from one of Billy’s eyes to the next, down his face to his mouth, and settled there. Billy’s heart sped and his mind slowed as Steve’s gaze lingered on his lips.

“If it had been me, teenager or not…” Steve swallowed. “I would have never let you go.”

Before Billy could think of a reply, Steve leaned down and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his cheek. Billy swore that, for a moment, time shattered into pieces. The feel of Steve’s mouth on his face, the smell of his cologne, the subtle scent of whiskey, and the heat of his body were all that existed. He blinked as the guy leaned back, retreating with what was now a full-blown blush on his cheeks and throat.

It was all so glaringly obvious to him in one swift second. Staring up into the endless, brown eyes of Steve Harrington, Billy was breathless. He was stunned, lost, and amazed. He was on a plummeting wave, careening towards shore.

He was sixteen again. And Steve was his new Adam.

 


	7. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy was so beautiful, looking up at him with such brilliant blue eyes, wide and wonderful. He could admire those eyes for hours, memorize every fleck of green and grey that he can see. They made him vulnerable. Made him dizzy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More shameless fun. As always, love to my muse, Sarah.  
> Enjoy!

He was only a breath from saying something he knew would change everything. One intimate confession that would shift the balance and send him falling, headlong, into the oblivion he so craved. Steve swallowed and fought back the nervous fluttering in his stomach, the ache in his chest. Billy was so beautiful, looking up at him with such brilliant blue eyes, wide and wonderful. He could admire those eyes for hours, memorize every fleck of green and grey that he can see. They made him vulnerable. Made him dizzy.

“Then what are you waiting for.” Billy said softly, searching Steve’s face for an answer. “You know what you want, Steve.” His body vibrated with longing and Steve leaned closer, pulled by a tangible _hunger_ in his veins. “Take what you want.”

His hands shook as Steve lifted one hand, ran his thumb along Billy’s jaw.

“Take it.” Billy demanded with a whisper.

* * *

Steve woke up to a delicious pain rooted in his belly. He opened his eyes, heart beating wildly with the image of Billy’s open lips and exquisite gaze burned into his brain. Sighing, he lamented as the picture faded.

A dream. _Only a dream._

His cock throbbed against his thigh, pulling his boxer briefs taunt against his leg. So real. The whole thing had felt so goddamn real, yet somehow the images were already mere shadows. The events blurred until all he could remember was Billy. Billy’s voice. _Take it._

“Fuck.” Steve reached under his sheets and pushed down the waistband of his briefs, palming himself in a hurry. He was already so hard; he let out a pitiful whine when his fist moved over his head, slick by an imminent release. Eyes closed, he thrust into his palm, the sound of his wet hand obscenely loud in the silent bedroom. He tried to remember, tried to hear Billy’s voice.

_Take what you want._

“Billy.” He moaned aloud, moving faster. “Please.” Bending a knee, he pushed for leverage and fucked his palm.

_You know what you want, Steve._

“You. I want you.” He cursed as his cock wept and his hips stuttered. “Fuck, Billy, I want you.”

_Take it._

His orgasm rolled over him in a wave, pleasure straining every muscle. Steve rode it out, groaning and gasping, spine arched so far his hips left the mattress. Each pump of his fist brought another shuttered breath. Every turn of his wrist, a shudder. His belly was covered in his come when he finally stilled and Steve couldn’t help but laugh.

He hadn’t done that since he was a teenager. It had been years since he had needed to mutter dirty words to himself while imagining a lover. But instead of feeling stupid, he felt sexy, naughty and wanton with a fist in his hair and another gently stroking his softening cock. Tossing aside his sheets, he stood from the bed and crossed his room, flicking on the lights to his bathroom. He blinked at his reflection in the mirror and grinned. Hair disheveled, chest still flushed, and his stomach…

Steve reached down and dragged the tips of his fingers through the mess on his abs. He’d done that. _Billy_ had done that. Watching his reflection, he thought about the two of them in the mirror of his private bathroom, Billy’s hands on his shoulders. Then he imagined Billy’s hands around his waist, cupping his cock while Steve swirled his fingers in his release.

His phone chimed from his nightstand and he whipped his head around, the fear of being seen playing with his own come bringing a blush to his cheeks. But the bedroom was still dark. His bed, empty.

If only Billy had come home with him. If only they hadn’t politely parted, murmuring goodbyes that had left Steve _aching_. Maybe there would be a blond, naked, sleeping man in his bed. Maybe the two of them wouldn’t be sleeping at all.

Steve washed himself quickly with a fancy hand towel, replacing his boxers before he returned to bed. Plucking his phone off the nightstand, he sighed as he unlocked it, then promptly chuckled.

 **Billy Hargrove:** Those fancy chairs of yours put a major knot in my back. Replace them stat.

Steve snorted, biting a lip before he typed an answer.

 **Steve:** It’s 5:43am. You better not be billing me for this.

He smirked at his own quip, his body tingling with excitement. Billy was probably lying in bed and thinking of _him_ at nearly six in the morning.

 **Billy Hargrove:** Only the bill from my masseuse.

Steve shook his head. “I’d do it for free.” He murmured aloud. His hands twitched around his phone as he imagined rubbing his palms into Billy’s strong, wide back.

 **Steve:** You’re worth it, I guess. ;)

His heart pounded and he chewed the inside of his cheek. Hands sweating, he waited until his phone gave a faint ding.

 **Billy Hargrove:** So I’ve been told.

A second ding sounded before Steve had finished reading the first message.

 **Billy Hargrove:** About last night…

Steve swallowed and shook his head. Last night. The night he’d all but told Billy Hargrove how badly he wanted the guy to be more than just his lawyer. More than just a friend even. He typed out the words “ _Yeah, sorry if I overstepped”_ before another message popped onto the screen.

 **Billy Hargrove:** Thanks.

He blinked at his screen, thumbs hovering over the surface.

 **Billy Hargrove:** I haven’t talked about my past in a while. It was nice. :)

Steve smiled back like a dork.

 **Steve:** Yeah, of course. It was fun.

He breathed, remembering his lips on Billy’s cheek. His face had been warm and slightly rough from stubble. Stubble Steve wanted to feel in his hands, on his neck and on his stomach.

 **Steve:** I’ll have to restock the bar...in case you’re ever in the mood for another sore back.

The second he hit send, Steve hissed and clapped a hand over his eyes. “Sore back, Steve?” He groaned into the dark. “Fucking seriously.”

 **Billy Hargrove:** I’m partial to good old Jack, in case you need a recommendation.  

His laugh was light from a sigh of relief. It was so easy with Billy. And it was fun. More fun it had ever been with women. His texting game wasn’t bad, per se. In fact, with the women he picked up at bars or parties, he put next to no thought into each message. He could say whatever he wanted to say to them, knowing they’d ignore a lot for a shot with him. They’d ignore lazy lines and half hearted booty calls. He put about as much effort into chasing them as they put into playing hard to get.

But Billy? Just the idea of saying something stupid to Billy made Steve’s mouth run dry. Billy was smart, funny, and -hands down- the most interesting person he’d ever met. One stupid line and he was worried the guy would never look at him the same. Never smile up at him again with such an awestruck, open expression.

Steve had positively melted when Billy had looked at him like that. Seconds after giving into his impulses and leaning down to brush his lips against Billy’s face, Steve had worried he’d made a critical error. Instead? Instead, Billy had beamed. His joy had made Steve feel like he was staring straight into the sun, blinded and blinking.

Steve stared down at his phone and thought of a hundred things he could say. _I wish I’d asked you to come home with me._ He shook that idea away. _I wish you were here._ Too needy. _I wish you weren’t my lawyer._ Dumb. _I’m glad you’re my friend._ Lame.

 **Steve:** Good to know.

He sighed. _Wimp._

 **Steve:** You going to come by the office tomorrow with those papers?

Settling back in his pillows, he relaxed. Not too needy. Yet it felt eager enough that maybe...just maybe Billy would know he wanted him to.

 **Billy Hargrove:** Might have to send a messenger.

Steve felt a pang of disappointment before another message popped up.

 **Billy Hargrove:** You see, I have this friend…

Jealousy soured Steve’s stomach.

 **Billy Hargrove:** He got me drunk last night and I haven’t slept at all.

Steve laughed and dropped his phone against his chest. He typed back a second later, a grin on his face.

 **Steve:** He sounds like a dickhead.

 **Billy Hargrove:** Nah. I like him.

 **Billy Hargrove:** Shitty taste in chairs though.

 **Steve:** Your place next time.

Steve nibbled on his lip.

 **Billy Hargrove:** Good.

* * *

Steve thought about sex all day.

It felt foolish, like he was a hormonal teenager, racing around with a throbbing dick and no idea how to use it. He was distracted, irritable, and uncharacteristically silent during all of his morning meetings. Things happened and he barely noticed. Words spoken yet he never truly heard. Dustin put papers in front of him and he hadn't even bothered to read them before he signed his name on the lines.

His mind was back in his bedroom, where he so desperately wanted to be. With Billy. Tangled in each other, writhing and greedy and sweating. Steve played the scenarios out in his head, imagined all the things he wanted, all the things he craved. Being with a man, at first, had seemed out of bounds. But now he could only think about being with _Billy._ He was desperate to have him in anyway he could. Willing and eager.

“...Mr. Hargrove.”

Steve snapped out of his thoughts, blinking as Dustin scooped up the papers.

“What?”

Dustin shook his head.

“I _said_ that you have a delivery from Mr. Hargrove.” He gestured to the box he’d only just plopped onto Steve’s desk. “It better not be cigars.”

“Just—” Steve snorted, standing from his chair to stare at the box. It was wrapped in brown paper, tied with a simple black ribbon and a note was tied on one end. He grasped the box in both hands, dragging it to the center of his desk before he plucked the note from the ribbon.

_Sign the papers. Buy new chairs. -B_

Steve let out an abrupt laugh and Dustin wrinkled his nose, waiting for the note to be handed over. Dropping it into his jacket pocket, Steve ignored the expression and unwrapped the package. The paper gave way to a simple wood box and the box revealed a large bottle. Whiskey. The same brand they’d shared the night before. He’d somehow found out the distillery.

“The legal documents?” Steve inquired with an arched brow. Dustin nodded and pointed to a envelope on his desk.

“Came with it.” His assistant rocked from heel to toe, watching Steve pull the bottle from the box and shake his head. “A congratulation gift?” Dustin poked.

“Thank you, Dustin.” Steve said with a tired smile.

“Fine. Be secretive.” The guy muttered under his breath with a wrinkle of his nose. “I’ll find out what it means.”

“Shut the door on your way out, please.” Steve added with a pointed finger.

He pulled out his phone before the door was shut. Billy answered in two rings.

“You get my note?” He skipped right past hello, his voice deep and throaty.

“Is this an apology for not showing up personally?” Steve quipped. “Because I could get used to sorrys like this.”

“Of course. I hate missing a meeting with my favorite client.” Billy purred into the phone. Steve didn’t suppress the pleased blush that spread on his face.

“Mmm, thanks.” Steve said with a grin. “But, just so you know, my assistant is sniffing for a story.” Billy’s laugh was warm and low, evoking a hard clench in Steve’s belly.

“They do love gossip, our little ankle-biters.” They shared an affectionate laugh and Steve looked down at the bottle in the box. It’s a nicer vintage than the bottle they’d finished and Billy would know that. Billy had picked it special, that much was obvious. He’d had it gift-wrapped and messengered across town, which didn’t run cheap. It was a gesture that Steve wanted to return.

“How’s the back?” He asked, sinking into his chair. Billy gave a hushed sigh and Steve grinned, stretching out to prop his legs on his desk.

“Terrible. You should feel guilty.”

“Oh, I do.” Steve nodded to no one, his face cracked wide in a smile. “I’d offer to help but I don’t give as good a shoulder massage as you do.” He grinned, the tease in his voice making his skin tingle. Billy sighed and the slightest trace of a curse could be heard. Suddenly the playful lilt in the conversation was gone, replaced by something breathy. Something unspoken.

“I’ve got it covered.” Billy’s voice was rough, hitting Steve right in the stomach.

“Oh yeah?” Replying with a whisper, Steve swiped his tongue across his dry bottom lip. “Good.” A hum purred into his ear and he nearly moaned, images flooding his mind. Images of Billy’s pouty lips, parted to make such a sound in his ear. A shiver raced down the back of his neck. “Wouldn’t want you aching all day.” He added.

“Can’t have that.” Billy murmured, a small puff of an exhale punctuating his words. Steve dropped his feet from his desk and spread his legs wide while his cock stirred.

“No.” He breathed. “Imagine how much harder your day would be, stuck like that.”

Another soft curse and a hint of a laugh. Steve gulped down a breath of air. _Let me hear you._

“That’d be rough.”

“So rough.” Billy groaned.

“You’d need some serious attention.”

“Hours.”

“Hours of massages. Sounds exhausting.”

“ _Steve._ ” There was a silent plead in Billy’s voice and Steve’s pulse leapt, blood running hot. Pleasure, raw and unrestrained surged in his veins as he listened to Billy’s breathing. Steve pictured him on his back in bed, beautiful body flexing with pleasure, eyes closed as he held the phone in one hand, his cock in the other.

“Yes.” He shamelessly moaned into the phone.

Billy cursed and Steve palmed himself through his pants.

“Steve.” His voice ground over the line, lighting up Steve’s nerves with sparks.

“Yeah.” He panted.

“ _Steve._ ”

“Billy.”

There was a broken gasp and then a hum, shaky and wonderful. Steve swallowed back his own moan, listening to what could only be Billy’s muted bliss, his breathing jagged over the phone.

“What are we doing?” Steve finally whispered, his cock so _so_ hard against his thigh. Billy’s light laughter filled his ears and tickled down his spine.

“I have no idea.” There was another laugh, this time darker, deeper. “But I like it.”


	8. Billy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy needed another hit. Another word, a whisper of a moan, anything. He ached to see Steve’s big, warm eyes and adorable smile. Then, as if fate had heard his little prayer, Steve was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, friends. I'm a spaz who can't keep my shit together. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading! ♥

Billy had met Carter Adams his first year at Harvard, when he’d tried to pick him up at a bar and failed. Miserably. Even when pit against Billy’s infallible charm and best smiles, Carter only had eyes for the ladies. But it hadn’t stopped Billy from chatting him up for over an hour and buying him three beers. It wouldn’t have been the first time Billy had picked up a straight guy; yet what he’d hoped would be a quick suck in the bathroom had bloomed into the start of a friendship he’d carried throughout law school. Carter was resourceful, smart, and had an eye for opportunity. Better than that, Carter was a good guy; he was there for Billy when it counted. They were friends through thick and thin, rich and poor, sickness and health, to the point where Carter claimed Billy was the closest he’d have to a wife. They built the most successful law firm in New York City from nothing. From roommates to partners. Hargrove and Adams. Just two guys, working their asses off and eating a shit load of ramen. 

Tonight, however, they were going to be eating a lot better than ramen. 

As a prestigious law firm, Hargrove and Adams made a number of charitable contributions to the various causes in New York City. Sometimes, this landed them invites to large, fancy charity events and those large, fancy events often meant rich, future clients. This was how they kept their practice healthy, mingling with the aristocrats to win their business. It wasn’t Billy’s favorite way to spend an evening but, ultimately, it paid his bills.  

They arrived together, as they usually did, with Carter’s driver picking Billy up before heading into the city. Stepping from the car, there were valets and photographers on the sidewalk, which didn’t surprise either of them. It wasn’t uncommon for a celebrity or two to show up to one of these things but the cameras weren’t for them. A few photos were snapped out of obligation before the photographers were turning away, waiting for someone more noteworthy. 

Billy clapped Carter on the back as they filed inside the fancy hotel, making their way to the banquet hall. They were given their table number by a pretty woman in a floor-length gown and a host leads them. Billy was all smiles as they pass familiar faces but Carter was the one waving like a goon. He’d always been better at the relationship part of their business. Billy was the pitbull in the courtroom. Carter was the sweet talker in the conference room. It won them cases and it won them clients; and that’s what counted.

They were seated at a table with no one already sitting, which suited Billy just fine. He wasn’t looking forward to an evening of forced conversation when his mind was constantly swirling with the thoughts of getting home. Then he could text Steve. Or call Steve.

He adjusted his tie when his mind drifted to their last phone call, his pulse suddenly a little more insistent and located a little further south. Steve’s voice on the phone had made him come so hard, he’d seen spots. And his hand.  _ Jesus _ his  _ sheets _ . He’d made a royal mess and it’d been something to behold. It’d thoroughly embarrassed him to have to launder his linens because he’d  _ soiled _ them like a teenager. But  _ fuck _ , the way Steve had said his name unraveled him in the worst way. 

Billy needed another hit. Another word, a whisper of a moan, anything. He ached to see Steve’s big, warm eyes and adorable smile. 

Then, as if fate had heard his little prayer, Steve was there. Standing over him, wearing a striking, black Armani tuxedo. Unlike the last time Billy had seen him, with his hair tossed and messy around his ears, Steve’s mane was slicked back neatly. Brown eyes held his stare and Steve’s sweet, pink lips curled in a little grin.

Billy blinked stupidly as Steve pulled back the chair next to him and sat down.

“Hope this isn’t taken.” He said with a wide smile, sweeping a hand through his hair. Billy’s breath caught in his throat and Steve’s eyes slipped slowly from Billy’s face to Carter. “Mr. Adams.”

“Mr. Harrington.” Carter took Steve’s offered hand while Billy fought to keep from turning red. He was overwhelmed to have Steve just...beside him.

“Mr. Hargrove.” Steve was staring at him again, tying him in knots. He forced his face into a sleek smile and he took Steve’s hand to shake it. His palm was so warm and soft; Billy released it like it was on fire. 

“Good to see you, Steve.” He pressed his tongue to the root of his mouth as Steve’s gaze flared at his first name. But he didn’t pause, didn’t make a scene. He merely smiled and gestured to his left.

“This is Tiffany Giavonni.” Steve said pleasantly as Billy noticed the woman for the first time. Blonde, petite and strikingly attractive, she smiled and Billy felt a twist in his gut. “These are my corporate attorneys, William Hargrove and Carter Adams.” Steve continued and Billy reached for her hand. 

“Of course I know who you are.” He purred, taking her delicate palm into his. If he’d been closer, he would have kissed her knuckles, just to prompt the blush in her cheeks to spread further to her jaw. “I saw you in the Nutcracker last Christmas. Fantastic. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He stated with the silkiest bass in his repertoire. She laughed sweetly and Billy let his smile sizzle before he released her. The prima ballerina for the New York City Ballet was one of the few women in the world he would recognize anywhere. Judging by the startled look on Steve’s face, he hadn’t expected as much.  

“Thank you.” Tiffany bubbled. “That’s very kind of you.” 

“I didn’t see the Nutcracker last Christmas but it is still a pleasure to meet you.” Carter chimed in, standing from his seat to take her palm and graze his thumb over her knuckles. Billy had to contain a snort at the move. He’d seen it used over the years and he knew what it meant. Tiffany’s blush only grew but Steve wasn’t really looking. His eyes were sparkling and fixed on Billy. 

“I saw you two come in and thought we’d come join you.” Steve beamed, straightening his black, silk tie. “Couldn’t let you sit at an empty table.”

“How very kind of you.” Billy remarked before he could stop the sentence from leaping from his mouth. Steve grinned but Billy didn’t dare look at Carter. His best friend would know his flirting voice anywhere and that wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have anytime soon. 

_ Are you fucking our biggest client? _

_ Not yet. _

“Everything’s going well over at Harrington Enterprises?” Carter asked tactfully, his eyes skimming the menu selection. Steve followed suit and held the thick cardstock in his fingers, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the paper as he thought. 

“Billy takes good care of us, as always.”

Billy needed to adjust his tie again, but fought off the impulse as Carter set down his menu and smoothed his palm over the surface. 

“Good to hear the old boy still lives up to the hype.” His green eyes bored into Billy’s when he finally glanced at his friend. There were a hundred things in his stare, one of which was a loud and pointed  _ fuck you for fucking him. _

“Just doing my job.” Billy stated solidly, relieved when a waiter appeared with a wine selection and started to fill their glasses. 

* * *

Dinner was served and slowly Billy felt their group relax. Or maybe it was just him relaxing as he watched and listened. Steve filled Carter in on the drama with Jonathan Byers and Billy’s performance during their confrontation. Tiffany’s eyes kept wandering from Steve to Carter throughout the meal, her gaze shy. Eventually, Billy spotted Carter returning her looks, smiling over his wine glass as it slowly emptied.

When couples started to head to a small dance floor, swaying to a light-hearted waltz, Carter polished off his chardonnay and caught Tiffany’s eye. 

“Would you want to dance?” Carter asked, a little too loudly. It’s the wine, Billy decided, but Tiffany smiled and fluttered her lashes, blooming under the attention. “If you don’t mind?” Carter asked quickly, his eyes on Steve. Billy held his breath, took a drink of his water to settle the swirling of his gut. 

“Of course.” Steve practically bounced out of his seat to grant Carter access to his date and Billy smiled down at this plate as Steve waved them off, pleased as punch. Carter had Tiffany in his arms in record time and Billy regarded them with mild amusement. 

“Careful.” He said softly to Steve, leaning in to speak into his ear. “Carter will try and steal her away.” 

“He can have her.” Steve answered quickly and Billy’s brows hit his hairline in surprise.

“Really?”

“Mmm.” Steve nodded and took a long drink of his bordeaux. When he swallowed, Billy watched his adam’s apple bob. “She’s pretty and everything but…” He shrugged and Billy scoffed. 

“Steve. She’s a prima ballerina.” He gestured with his glass of water. “You know, the best ballerina in New York.” Steve blinked at him, sipped more wine.

“You’re the best lawyer in New York.” Billy’s mouth clamped shut and Steve grinned wide. “That makes you more impressive, I think.” 

Something inside of him loosened and Billy breathed slowly, studying Steve’s face. There wasn’t a sliver of teasing. No, just admiration, pure and bright in Steve’s eyes. It cracked Billy in half, made him weak with want. He wanted to lean over and close the gap between them, press his lips to Steve’s. He wanted to wrap his arms around him and pull his weight atop his body. 

“Thank you.” Billy murmured. “But really, you should be saving the compliments for your date.” He added for good measure, tilting his water glass back to draw some of the cold liquid to his lips. Steve watched, as he always did, and Billy’s stomach flipped. He was falling madly in love with Steve Harrington, and the way the man stared wasn’t helping the matter. 

“My date is occupied.” Steve laughed softly, one side of his mouth lifted in a tiny hint of a grin. “Which means you’re the one I get to shower with compliments now.”

Billy grinned, his chest filling with the warmth of a blush. His skin would be red under his tuxedo if he checked, that much he knew. It was funny how something so simple, like a kind word from someone he admired, had him blushing. How many men had used far filthier phrases and received less of a reaction? 

“Well then, by all means…” He reached for Steve’s wine, emboldened by the way the man’s eyes sparkled as he followed Billy’s hand, and took a sip. It wasn’t bad. Probably expensive but he’d never really had the palate for wines. “...shower away.” 

Steve stared unchecked at his mouth as Billy took another little drink, pursing his lips at the dry flavor. In truth, he didn’t like the taste, but Steve’s gaze had him tipping the glass back for another before he returned it. He wondered if Steve would taste like that wine, tart on his tongue. 

“I’m glad I changed tables.” Steve said, touching the rim of his wine glass with two fingers. Billy laughed.

“You didn’t  _ change _ tables. You sat where you wanted and no one had the balls to tell you to move.” 

Steve tipped his head back and laughed, which turned more than a few heads. Billy couldn’t help but smile at the way the guy’s nose wrinkled with genuine glee. 

“I did, didn’t I?” He snorted. “Jesus, I’ve officially become an asshole.” 

“Nah.” Billy shook his head, winked one eye. “You’re Steve Harrington. Charming, gorgeous and powerful. Who’s going to tell you to get out of their seat?” 

Steve’s eyes locked onto his and the room seemed to fade from Billy’s awareness. All he could see was big, brown eyes, wide with unspoken questions.

_ I need you. _ Billy wanted to whisper, wanted to reach out and mouth against the shell of Steve’s ear.  _ I’m yours. _

“I always hated assigned seats.” Steve blurted, a playful expression easing his stare. He took a drink of wine, breaking the eye contact and Billy wanted to grab him by the jaw and force it to continue. “If I see someone I’d rather be with, that’s where I’m going to be.” He smirked at his wine, rubbed his thumb over the rim of the glass, smearing the print left from his lips. Or maybe Billy’s. 

“Steve.” Billy whispered his name and their eyes met again. He would never grow tired of looking into those eyes, never grow weary of their sway. 

“Hmm?” 

“You’re killing me.” He breathed. Steve’s face split into another infectious smile, the apples of his cheeks reddening. Billy ate up every second of that blush. “You’re making me swoon.”

“Stop.” Steve laughed, swirled the wine in his glass. “I’m just being honest.”

“Well you’re charming the hell out of me.” Billy replied.

“Good.” Steve’s stare was focused, intent settling into his features. “I like disarming the big, bad lawyer.”

This time, it was Billy who let out a hearty laugh, rubbing a hand over his jaw. He was smitten. Absolutely flushed, he met Steve’s gaze. 

“You do, huh?” He grinned, just as Tiffany and Carter approached from the dance floor, faces rosy from dancing. “No wonder you have such a beautiful woman on your arm.” He added loud enough to be overheard and Steve followed his eyeline, smiling as Tiffany reclaimed her seat at his side. 

“Mr. Hargrove, your partner is a marvelous dancer.” Tiffany gushed and plucked Steve’s wine glass from the table. Her plush, pink lips left behind a trace of lipstick when she set it down again. 

“Is he now?” Billy turned to arch a brow at Carter and watched his friend beam. His green eyes were locked on Tiffany, sparkling with interest. Billy knew that look. Billy has seen that look many times over. It was the look that said Carter wasn’t going home alone that night. 

Billy caught Steve’s eye and was surprised to see that he wasn’t looking at Tiffany. Wasn’t looking at Carter. Steve was staring at  _ him _ and his eyes were no different from Carter’s. They were endless and tender and Billy was breathless in an instant. Those eyes were pleading with him.  _ Take me home.  _

Billy wished they were alone, he needed to have Steve alone, but Tiffany’s voice snapped him back to reality. The reality in which they were surrounded by people, one of which was Steve’s  _ date. _

“Do you dance, Mr. Hargrove?” Tiffany was sipping Steve’s wine again and Billy swallowed when she did.

“Only with worse dancers than myself.” He replied with a dazzling smile, the rehearsed one he saved for women like Tiffany. She melted, right on cue, her lashes fluttering as she giggled. 

“You can’t be  _ that _ bad.” She gestured with one, graceful hand. “Your posture is excellent. Your form…” Her little eyebrow wiggle made Billy laugh and Steve joined him, both of his brows raised. 

“His form?” Steve asked with a smile.

“Yes, yes.” Billy leaned forward, waved one hand. “Please, continue.”

“Oh, god.” Carter clapped a hand on Billy’s shoulder. “Don’t inflate his ego even more. We won’t be able to get him into a cab.”

“Your form is excellent.” Tiffany ignored Carter and answered with a broad smile, running one of her nails from her temple to the corner of her mouth. Billy tracked the movement with his eyes, let his grin turn scalding. From the side, he could see Steve’s lip twitch.

“Thank you, beautiful.” He purred with a wink. “You hear that, Carter?” He elbowed his friend and sent him a smile to trump all smiles. “It’s excellent.”

“Yeah yeah.” Carter was laughing, shoving him a little in his seat, but the jealousy was still there. “What a waste.”

“Waste?” Tiffany frowned, looking between the two of them with a bewildered expression. Steve ran a finger over his top lip, locked eyes with Billy.

“Sweetheart.” Billy leaned in over the table, subtly drawing closer to Steve as he did. It didn’t escape his notice that Steve’s hand moved lower on his thigh, drifting nearer to Billy’s knee. “Any man in this room would be lucky to have you on his arm.” Tiffany blushed and Billy glanced up at Steve, said a million things in one stare before he opened his mouth and positively purred. “But I’d be more inclined to dance with  _ your _ date.” 

Steve’s face turned a beautiful shade of pink and Billy sat back in his seat, triumphant and smug as Tiffany smiled wide, mouth falling open. 

“So you see, gorgeous.” Carter is gesturing with his newly refilled wine glass, a cheerful smile on his face. “His form might be excellent but he’s not going to fill your dance card.” Taking a generous sip, he sat his glass down solidly and held out his hand. “But if Mr. Harrington doesn’t mind…”

“Please. Enjoy yourselves.” Steve murmured. “I’m no dancer.” 

As Tiffany accepted Carter’s outstretched hand, the two of them heading for the dance floor again with bright smiles, Billy rubbed his fingertips over his lips. 

“You’re no dancer but you brought a ballerina to a party—”

“Did you mean it?” Steve asked, eyes focused and searching. “You’d dance with me?” 

Billy wanted to bite a lip, reach between Steve’s thighs and show him what he’d give to  _ dance _ with him. Instead, he watched. Watched as Steve’s sat forward in anticipation of his answer, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. His mouth was dark from wine, stark against his white teeth. Billy needed to taste him. Needed to know the slide of Steve’s tongue against his own. Carefully, he grinned. 

“Mr. Harrington, I’d do just about anything you asked.”  

Steve’s chest rose and fell in a hard breath and Billy licked his lips. “Anything?” 

“Just about.” Billy repeated. 

“Join me for a smoke?” Steve asked. 

“Sure.”

* * *

The rooftop wasn’t exactly what Billy had in mind for a smoke, but he’d followed Steve without question, laughing lightly when they’d wound up with the best view of the city. It was cold, just a little more than his tuxedo jacket could keep out, but Billy didn’t mind. The city was breathtaking; and he had Steve alone for the first time all night. 

“Didn’t know you smoked.” He stated when Steve had offered him a cigarette, lit it for him like a gentleman and took a long drag. Billy savored the burn in his mouth, the way the smoke clung to his throat as he inhaled. It’d been years and he let his eyes close as the nicotine smoothed out his edges, settled his nerves. He’d needed cigarettes a lot more when he’d been a teenager and the habit was hard to maintain with such a busy schedule. That and he liked breathing easy on his morning runs. But the tang in his mouth was like an old friend, welcoming him home. 

“I don’t.” Steve shrugged. “Just felt like something to do.” Billy watched his face, studied his expression. 

“Something to do on a romantic rooftop?” He asked. Steve’s eyes found his and he grinned.

“You ever been up here?” Walking a little, Billy shook his head and looked out over the city. The lights alone were beautiful, but cast against the black of the sky and what little water he could see in the dark, it was something off a postcard. Heartstopping. Dreams were made of views like the one atop that building.

“Never had the balls to just walk up to the roof like I own the place.” He finally answered, casting a little smirk at Steve from over his shoulder.

“I could.” Steve breathed, smoke white against black. “Own it.” 

“That you could.” Billy nodded. He knew enough about Harrington Enterprises. If they wanted to buy out every hotel in New York City, they could. All it would take was some signatures and a wire transfer. 

“If I wanted.” Steve added, tossing his cigarette to the ground and snuffing it out with the toe of his fine shoes. His gaze fell heavy on Billy, calling him closer like it had at the table. Begging him for so much more than just small talk and banter. It tore at Billy’s gut, made him want in the worst possible way. He’d wanted Steve alone all night long and this was his chance. This was what he’d craved and yet he was standing mute in the face of opportunity. Swallowing, Billy gathered his courage.

“What  _ do _ you want, Steve?” He asked smoothly, the smoke of his cigarette flowing from his mouth into the chilly night air. Steve watched him from only a few feet away, eyes sparkling from the city lights. 

“I want you to kiss me.” His voice was clear and assertive, yet slightly rough. The command vibrated between them and Billy could feel his pulse in his fingertips.  _ Finally. _ His body screamed for him to comply, to swallow up the distance and take Steve in his hands, consume him. Devour him. Instead, he dropped his cigarette to the ground, hissing what remained of a drag into the air. 

Each step towards Steve made his heart lunge harder against his ribs. His breath quickened, his skin shivered. Their gaze didn’t break, not for a moment. Billy moved as leisurely as possible across the rooftop to savor every second of heightened sensitivity. He stepped right into Steve’s space, closed in until their chests nearly touched, and then stopped. 

“I can do that.” He answered softly, eyes finally dropping to Steve’s mouth. For weeks he’d dreamed of this, of capturing Steve’s lips in his own. Leaning in, he grazed his nose over Steve’s cheek, tilted his jaw. 

The press of his lips was barely a kiss. It was a peck, dry and soft and gone in a moment. The effect, however, was exactly what Billy had anticipated. Steve’s mouth opened, a ghost of a sigh passing from his lips, and Billy pounced. Greedily, he sealed their mouths together, his right hand bracing the small of Steve’s back as he stepped in. Dove in. Billy breathed hard through his nose, his body shuddering from delight. From  _ Steve. _ Steve, who tasted like red wine and dark smoke and something sweet. Steve, who teased the seam of Billy’s lips with the tip of his tongue and moaned when Billy opened for him. 

Steve could  _ kiss _ . Before Billy could blink, he was being gripped by the front of his jacket, reeled in so Steve could take and take, and he sighed in blissful surrender. His hands roamed up Steve’s spine, fingernails digging into fancy fabric before he lowered his hands to the firm swell of Steve’s ass. Billy moaned as he smoothed his hands over both cheeks, grabbed and pulled until their hips met and Steve groaned into his lips. 

Billy paused to lean back and look at him. The sight made his stomach clench with want. Steve’s mouth was pink and oh so inviting as a smirk grew on his face. 

“Good enough?” 

“Not enough.” Steve whispered, shaking his head until strands of his hair hung in his eyes. “Never enough.” 

The look on his face made Billy feel drunk with desire when Steve kissed him again. And again. His arm snaked around Billy’s waist and pulled him flush to his body. 

Steve was hard. He was hard. They were both straining at the front of their slacks, craving more but finding none. For now, Billy was happy to simply have this. This endless kiss on a rooftop terrace with the reigning King of New York City. 

“Goddamn.” Steve groaned as he pulled away. “I’ve wanted that for so long, I thought I was going to lean over and taste you downstairs at that table.” 

“Well that would have ruined Tiffany’s night.”

“Forget her.” Steve whispered, slipping a hand inside Billy’s jacket against the warmth of his stomach, his lower back. He caressed him through his crisp shirt, heat bleeding from Billy’s skin into Steve's palm. “It’s you I want.” 

Billy couldn’t help but grin against Steve’s cheek, trailing an open mouth to his ear to chuckle into it.

“You sure?” He presses a tiny kiss to Steve’s jaw, nuzzled his nose against his temple. “I’ve heard ballerinas are very flexible—“

“I want you.” Steve leaned back and met Billy’s eye. “As little or as much as you’ll give me, I want you.” 

As little or as much. Billy swallowed before he offered up everything he had for Steve to take. Willingly, happily. Because he wanted Steve just as badly, just as deeply, if not more so. His chest was open wide, his heart exposed and vulnerable for the first time in years. And Steve Harrington held it in a solid fist.

The lawyer in him held fast, screaming for caution when his very blood pounded for impulse. He wanted Steve there and now, would ruin his suit to have all of his dreams realized on that rooftop. 

Unfortunately, reality won out. 

“We need to discuss that.” Billy breathed. “ _ This _ .” He clarified. “When we’re not tipsy and hard and on a dark rooftop.”

“Discuss...” Steve grinned. “Discuss how hard you make me?” He kissed Billy quickly, mouth open and promising more, before he pulled away. “How much I want you naked and in my bed?”

“Discuss how our business relationship  _ cannot  _ affect our personal one.” Billy clarified with an arched brow. “You know, the whole billion dollar corporation thing.”

Steve groaned, dropping his head onto Billy’s shoulder.

“What a lawyer.” He muttered, then gasped when Billy’s hands gripped his ass.

“You forgot the  _ damned good _ part. I’m a damned good lawyer.” Billy purred into Steve’s hair. “And I’m not starting anything without a talk.” 

Steve swallowed. “You’re right.” He nodded, took a step back and Billy watched a slew of emotions cross the guy’s beautiful face. Reaching out, he reeled Steve back in by a grip on his shirt, catching his mouth in a hot and insistent kiss. He licked passed Steve’s teeth, penetrating with lazy pushes of his tongue. Billy fucked Steve’s mouth carefully, sweetly, and when he pulled away, the glazed stare of bliss was back on Steve’s face.

“We’d better get back.” He sighed. “Or Tiffany will think I stole you away.”

“She didn’t stand a chance.” Steve winked, licked his bottom lip. “Not even close.”


	9. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wanted to lay Billy bare and lick him from head to toe, bite at his firm muscle, pull desperate sounds of ecstasy from kiss-plumped lips. He wanted to book an entire floor of a hotel to have his way with his attorney, in every room and on every surface, well into the day and then into the night again. He wanted to memorize every plane, curve and dip of Billy’s body. Wanted to map them with his fingertips and tongue. He wanted everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this took _forever_ and im truly sorry about that. lots of thanks to several people for keeping me motivated. big thanks to [@usstrashbarge](https://usstrashbarge.tumblr.com) for telling me outlines are necessary and making my toddler ass actually plan something. and thank you to everyone who's left me words of encouragement. this wouldn't have happened without your kindness, so thank you.  
>  two notes:  
> 1\. please keep in mind that i am not an attorney and don't know anything about actual law but im trying to make this seem as legit as possible without having to actually research and care about facts.  
> 2\. im sorry to keep teasing. things will heat up soon.

Waking up alone hadn’t been part of the plan. Not that he’d really had one when he’d stood, crossed the room, and seated himself next to the focal point of his desire. His white whale, his forbidden fruit. Steve wasn’t sure what his plan had been, putting himself directly in Billy’s path that night. He wasn’t sure where all the blatant flirting had come from, the unchecked bravery. It was as if his lust had spilled over, leaving him brimming and careless. He’d lured Billy to the roof, made his need known, and had nearly buckled under the wave of fulfillment at the brush of Billy’s lips. How they’d left that rooftop without ravaging each other senseless, he didn’t know. There’d been a fire burning between them when Billy had stepped away, straightened his collar and smirked. 

His lawyer wanted to talk. 

Steve wanted to fuck. He wanted to lay Billy bare and lick him from head to toe, bite at his firm muscle, pull desperate sounds of ecstasy from kiss-plumped lips. He wanted to book an entire floor of a hotel to have his way with his attorney, in every room and on every surface, well into the day and then into the night again. He wanted to memorize every plane, curve and dip of Billy’s body. Wanted to map them with his fingertips and tongue. He wanted everything. 

Instead, all Billy had left him with was a small wink and a murmured promise. The ghost of Billy’s kiss weighed against his lips as he’d escorted Tiffany out to his car. The memory of Billy’s breath against his cheek had haunted him as he bid her goodnight and ignored her obvious attempts at seduction. He could only think of firm hands on his hips, cupping his jaw, gripping his back. He could only think of Billy. 

* * *

Mike Wheeler was one of the few associates from Hargrove Adams that didn’t look like a carbon copy of Carter or Billy. He didn’t wear a suit more expensive than he could afford. He didn’t get his hair cut at the trendiest of barbers in the city. Steve wondered, sometimes, if the kid ever got his hair cut at all. 

But that was half his charm. His big, fluffy curls, falling low around his ears. That and the big smile he always had for Steve.

“Mr. Harrington.” Mike eagerly shook his hand when Steve stepped into the conference room, a little surprised, sure, but still quick to take the guy’s hand. 

“Mike, good to see you. And, remember, it’s _Steve_.” The kid _beamed_ at the informality and Steve let it go to his head. Just a little. He had, after all, gone to school with Mike’s sister. He’d _dated_ his sister, but then again, Steve had dated a lot of girls.

Really, he’d been an asshole. 

But not to Mike. Mike, who’d been pinned against his own locker one day and ready to cry before Steve had stepped in. He’d been stoned and nearly incoherent until he’d seen the kid red-faced and horrified in the hallway. And he’d intervened without a moment of hesitation. Said something forgettable and scared the bullies away.

And turned into one kid’s hero, as it turned out. 

“Sorry, Steve.” Mike’s smile only grew, even as he cast a cursory look to his right. 

To his _boss_. 

Billy Hargrove sat at Steve’s executive conference table like it was business as usual. But Steve knew it was nothing of the sort. 

They’d _kissed_. Only two nights prior. On a rooftop, in the dark, under the stars. 

Steve hadn’t been able to think about anything else since. Hadn’t been able to concentrate without a brief flash of Billy’s voice in his head. His sigh against his lips. 

“Billy.” He uttered the man’s name like it was a forbidden thing, and his belly quivered low. Warm and heavy. The lust there was obvious, had been from the beginning, but this intensity, this _longing_ , wasn’t just about getting what he wanted from Billy Hargrove. 

It was about getting Billy Hargrove. And keeping him for good. 

“Mr. Harrington.” A glimmer of mischief twinkled in Billy’s eyes as he sat at the table, hands clasped without any indication of his moving to shake Steve’s hand. Or even _stand_ for that matter. And Steve wanted to ask him about it. Wanted to strike up their usual banter.

But then again, Mike was standing there beside Billy, smoothing in his hand over his sensible, navy tie before he sat, fiddled with the papers in front of him nervously. 

“I wasn’t sure what to expect when you asked for a meeting so spontaneously.” Steve said as he popped the button on his jacket, swept it open and sat. Billy’s eyes followed every move with a predator’s calculation. 

Like Steve was on the stand and Billy planned to rip him open and _feast_. 

“Mr. Hargrove asked me to prepare some documents.” Mike suddenly sounded nervous, his hands floating aimlessly over a folder as he motioned, then opened it, then closed it again.

Straightened his tie. 

“Mike, please.” Steve sat back in his chair, tried to put the young man at ease with one of his crooked, charming smiles. He knew it did wonders on most people, and it seemed to do the trick. Mike calmed, lifted his gaze to Steve’s eyes. “No need to be nervous.” 

With a nod, the man let out a hard sigh. 

“I’m here to act as an attorney on your behalf, Mr—” Mike caught his mistake and color flushed his cheeks but Steve merely smiled. “Steve. Sorry.” 

“Mike, please don’t take offense, but isn’t that your boss’s job?” He turned his attention to Billy, who remained still and silent, both uncharacteristic and _unsettling_. 

“I’m not here in an official capacity.” Billy said suddenly, his voice thick with authority and throaty, low. 

_Rough_. 

“You’re not?” Steve asked, brows high on his forehead. 

“No. My interests here are personal.” The darkening of Billy’s eyes sent a shiver down Steve’s spine and a warmth began to pool in his belly. Aroused and confused, Steve turned his eyes back to Mike, tried to _distract_ himself from the impulse to cat-and-mouse with Billy until one of them folded. 

Or lunged across the table.

Mike cleared his throat, face pinking further as he fiddled with the folder on the table. 

“Is that for me?” Steve finally just _asked_ and Mike looked up, face almost shocked, like he’d forgotten he was even in the room. 

“Oh, yes, sorry.” He opened the folder, slid it across the table and flipped it. 

**Conflict of Interest Waiver**

Steve ran his fingers over the smooth paper. Breathed deep. Let it out slowly. 

“Is this us talking?” He said softly, lifting his eyes from the page for only a moment to find Billy’s eyes. The guy grinned then turned in his seat. 

“Mike, can you give us a minute?” 

The kid was up and out of his seat in a flash, flattening his tie yet again as he murmured words of some sort before he flew out of the conference room altogether. 

“He’s here for legal reasons, otherwise I would have never brought him into this.” Billy started off slowly, searching Steve’s face. Waiting for a tell, a hint as to his mood. Steve could only think of one thing with Billy in the same room. 

His mouth silencing his lawyer’s smooth excuses. 

“You said we needed to talk about this, and then you show up with a contract.” Steve said, waving a hand at the papers in question. 

“I had just been swept off my feet by one of the sexiest men I’ve ever met.” Billy responded, eye ablaze. “I wasn’t thinking about the fact that _legally_ I could be disbarred for that kiss.”

Steve blinked. Then relaxed in his chair. 

“I don't want that.” He said gently, running a hand through his hair. “Of course I don’t want that.” Picking up the first page of the document, he skimmed the words, reading absolutely nothing. “Am I signing on the behalf of Harrington Enterprises, or myself?” He asked cautiously and Billy grinned. 

“Yourself.” 

“Hmm.” Steve read a little more, seeing nothing too alarming beyond the typical liabilities being spelled out. “So, I’m agreeing to not hold you accountable for any conflict of interest that may arise from the two of us…” He turned a page, turned back.

“Having a personal relationship.” Billy finished with a sly smile. “That’s the overview, yes. But that’s why _Mike_ is here. I can’t be the one to inform your decision to sign.” 

“Come on.” Steve scoffed. “Do you really think some paperwork is going to stop me from pursuing you?” 

The bob of Billy’s adam’s apple as he swallowed made Steve’s heart skip a little in his chest. He was itching to touch him. To round the table and taste the sweeping cupid’s bow of Billy’s top lip, pressing his mouth to the rapid pulse in Billy’s neck. 

“Mike will walk you through the document, answer any of your questions—” Before Billy could even finish his sentence, Steve had his pen open and slashed his signature on the last page. Dated it with a smirk. 

Then shoved the folder back across the table. 

“I want to _talk_ to _you_.” He stated bluntly, not unlike his previous declaration on a hotel rooftop. Where he’d all but demanded his lawyer kiss him. 

And Billy had obeyed oh so willingly. 

“That was reckless.” Billy said, his mouth curling at the corners in a tiny grin. “As your attorney, I don’t approve.” 

“You’re not my attorney right now.”

“Then what am I?” 

The question hung between them in the air, ringing in Steve’s ears. And, for a terrifying moment, Steve didn’t know what to say. Then, against all instinct, he opened his mouth and just went with the first thing that popped into his head. 

“You’re gorgeous.” Billy’s face flickered with some sort of emotion and Steve’s heart dropped into his stomach. “You’re brilliant.” He circled the table slowly, trailing his fingertips over the cool surface. “You’re sweet.” 

_That_ made Billy scoff a little, his posture loosening in his seat.

“And _you’re_ a sweet _talker_.” His voice was so soft, so gentle. Steve remembered when they’d sat in his office, when Billy had opened himself up, talked about his past. Talked about Adam, his first love. 

When he stood next to Billy at the table, looking down at Billy’s upturned face, Steve felt time slide backwards. Back to when he’d had his first chance, his first kiss with the stunning man before him. Back when he’d been unsure of what he felt. 

“You’re the man I can’t stop thinking about.” Steve added at a whisper, reaching out with one hand to run the sensitive skin of his knuckles over the hard edge of Billy’s jaw. The man’s eyes closed and Steve cupped his chin, lifted his head. 

And leaned down to press a kiss to Billy’s lips. Once. Twice. Soft and chaste until Billy pressed up against the kiss, opened his mouth. 

Billy tasted like cinnamon and Steve groaned. Groaned and cupped Billy’s face in both hands, brought him closer. Deeper. 

When Billy sat back, pulling away, his pupils were blown and sparkling. 

“This is why I brought Mike.” He grunted before he stood, stepping into Steve’s space. “So I wouldn’t _jump_ you in the office.” Their mouths met again, this time with Billy’s hand gripping the back of Steve’s head, nails tickling his neck. “You’re too _tempting_.” He growled against Steve’s lips. 

“Not enough for you to do this sooner.” Steve grinned lazily between brushes of their mouths, his heart hammering in his ribs. This was everything he’d ever dreamed and they were still _dressed_. 

“Steve.” Billy pulled back, nailed him with a stare that took his breath away. “If I had known you…” His face flickered again with unspoken thoughts, eyes shifting down in hesitation. But when Steve tucked in closer and gripped Billy’s waist, his lawyer’s gaze returned. Crisp, ocean blue and shimmering. “I didn’t dare wish that straight, playboy Steve Harrington would be hot for me.”

Steve snorted.

“Pretty sure the first time I imagined you pinning me to this table, I could no longer call myself straight.”

Both of Billy’s brows arched up his forehead in shock before he let out a hard laugh. 

“You imagined _what_ now?” The smile they shared was sinful, but not as sinful as the lick of Billy’s tongue along his bottom lip. Like an animal salivating at the appearance of a meal. 

“I imagined my big, bad lawyer ripping apart my opponents…” Steve swiped his thumb over Billy’s sharp, silver tie, over stripes of texture in the gleaming fabric. “...then pinning me to this table, ripping open my fly...”

"Yeah?" Billy ducked his head, his mouth hot and open, trailing shivers over Steve's throat. "What else? What did I do to you?" 

Steve swallowed, moaning as Billy sucked his adam's apple, scraped his teeth over his pulse. 

"You sucked my cock."

Billy’s smile was replaced with a look of awestruck lust when he shifted back, mouth open on a rushed exhale. 

“God _damn_.” He groaned. “I’d love to fulfill that fantasy.” Capturing Steve’s mouth in a hard, aggressive kiss, Billy trapped him, flattening his palms on either side of him on the tabletop. “I want to fulfill them all.” 

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up [@hoppnhorn](http://hoppnhorn.tumblr.com)


End file.
